Capitalism has surpassed several levels of imbalance, misery, and absurdity. Sensations like pink sauce (super glued Heinz ketchup and heavy cream) that replaced nutritional facts for “angel numbers” once swept the nation. As of late, the collapse of the Silicon Valley Bank has been pronounced as the most significant bank failure after the Great Recession.
Naturally, this loss will affect all the corporations that have invested in the bank and attack the oblivious civilians who unknowingly deposited their earnings into such institutions. I cannot explain this intuition, but I am confident that this failure will escalate the melting of Antarctica while simultaneously setting more koala bears on fire in Australia. Somehow, this financial negligence will spawn more cows with Mad Cow Disease (which spreads to humans through cheap burgers and colored milk), ultimately causing Taco Bell to file for bankruptcy, confirming humanity’s end.
That said, finance is a fabricated study to satisfy the egos of rich dummies whose plastic surgeries failed them. Regardless of the grim economic situation, it can always be restored through airstrikes and pixie dust! There is a cure for anything and everything except for superficial relatability.
What is relatability? Ideally, relatability entails the capacity of a subject to form emotional connections and evoke reassurance. Sandra Bullock, in any rom-com that presented her as undesirable because of her brunette status, portrays characters that evoke this emotional connection.
Today, the definition seems quite different– reliability means to mimic surface-level characteristics usually found in Lifetime movies and children’s social media posts in 2011. It means to appropriate AAVE in the name of Gen Z slang while disregarding the historic black struggle and linguistic codes that created the language. It means to produce double chins in the name of comedic punchlines that can be considered side effects of the wince-inducing state. The superficial definition has been dispersed into many divisions, ceasing nuance and diversity for the sake of creating a vapid connection.
Let’s just say my Twitter and Instagram feeds are incredibly dry. Seriously. They resemble my mom’s cracked heels that are only moisturized with a hammer and a chisel. That being said, my social media algorithm is boring! Whenever I scroll through any social platform, I am transported back to watching Manchester by the Sea (forget about the dead kids!) through an obscure VPN during Homeroom. All posts are highly edited videos of gorgeous people attempting dubious beauty hacks. Or, the total veneration of a young actress whose true intentions are yet to be revealed (I’m looking at you, Florence Pugh).
I feel like there is a “database” of possible characteristics to pick and choose from. If you want to sport shades of baby pink blush without needing color correction and high-end nude pajama sets, embrace the Vanilla Girl lifestyle. Meanwhile, if you have doxxed somebody’s address on the internet to protect millionaire-billionaire Taylor Swift and prefer dresses found at a local Target, become a cottage-core girl.
There is an overlying disruption of genuine authenticity and deep conversations where empathy and nouveau ideas can flourish. And I blame John Green, a legless dead dude, and a snarky girl with cancer for this.