A Lesson on Girls

Ugly girls hate pretty girls.  Pretty girls hate smart girls.  Smart girls hate pretty girls.  Dumb girls hate smart girls.  The really dumb girls, pretty or otherwise, just feel things and they don't know why, but this holds for stupid boys, too.  Not everything is about your private parts.  But the point is, you might think that smart, pretty girls are the kind of girls most hated by other girls but you'd be wrong.

I don't want you to get the wrong impression, smart, pretty girls are hated because they know that they are pretty and smart, and they know how to work it, and they do.  Because they are smart.  And I assure you, there are distinct advantages to being both smart and pretty.  And no one likes to see anyone else get anything, least of all an advantage, but that is kind of human nature.  Anyway, the important thing to remember here is this: in a culture that values the appearance of intelligence (not the existence of it, the appearance of it) and physical features that conform to whatever standard of beauty is that culture's present standard, a girl without an obvious deficit in one or the other is definitely going to be hated.  But some are hated more than others.

Since we have already established that girls hate smart, pretty girls that know they are smart and pretty, it would be natural to think that we hate, and maybe to an even greater degree, smart, pretty girls that do not know they are smart and/or pretty.  Imagine any strong, endearing character played by Jessica Alba or Megan Fox.  Her precious insecurities are so charming.  Her beguiling humility is sublime!  She can't even see how lovely she is and that is what makes her so irresistible!

I can see how you might think we would hate those kind but I should remind you that, in real life, if a smart, pretty girl doesn't realize that she is pretty and/or smart, she stands in stark violation of our original assumption of intelligence.  No, in real life, to say that a girl is smart and pretty but unaware of either is a contradiction of terms.

But you've met those kinds of girls, you say to yourself.  Wrong.  Those are not called smart, pretty girls.  If a truly smart and pretty girl says things or does things or behaves in ways that make us think she sincerely does not realize that she is smart or pretty, well, there are only two explanations for it: either she has deep, cavernous void on the inside (think the eating disorder types) or she is a fucking liar.  In either case, we call those types sad, pretty girls and we mostly feel sorry for them.  Even those of us who are not pretty and those of us who are sad ourselves, we don't hate them.  We feel sorry for them, which is, in many ways, a stronger indictment.  It is complicated.

So, I submit that the girl most hated by other girls is the smart, pretty girl who doesn't give a fuck about being smart and pretty.  Of course, she isn't self-loathing, because that is sad and disabling.  And neither is she proud of being smart and pretty because she could never value herself for those characteristics.  She finds it vacuous and tedious and she doesn't value it, doesn't trust it.  She simply don't care.  And nothing drives other women to a more shocking and dizzying madness than a pretty girl who is above beauty.  She doesn't deign to enter the fray and that makes them crazy.

Of course, virtually none of what I've discussed has anything at all to do with how the girl feels about herself; and that has everything to do with genuine attractiveness.  No, I suspect attractiveness derives directly from how a girl feels about herself, regardless of her prettiness or smartness.  How many ratch girls ooze sex appeal?  How many dumb girls feel like they are fucking brill?  How many bright girls feel dull from the gaping black holes swirling around their brains, stretching everything inside all to spaghetti?  How many beautiful girls feel unattractive?  And doesn't that make them unattractive?

Well, I have all sorts of tired going on in my head and it is time for me to drink a coke and throw a trick or two and whistle into the wind and ca-ca-cut to the chase:

It doesn't pay to cross no kind of girl.  You should leave them alone.  And boys, fuck me, they are even worse!  They never met a nuance they didn't like to squash with their testosterone and on the inside, they all look like those dead-eyed cymbal-clanging monkey toys.  But don't take my word for it because I eat pork in my dreams and dine on human flesh when I'm awake and I am only an authority on the things I am, none of which are: pretty, smart, sad.