The Young-Girl as a Phenomenon
The Young-Girl is old already insofar as she knows herself to be young. So for her it's just a question of making the most of that suspended sentence, that is, committing the few reasonable excesses and living the few "adventures" expected of her age, all in view of a moment when she'll have to quiet down into the final nothingness of adulthood. thus, the social law contains in itself both the rotted time of youth and its violation, which are nothing after all but exceptions to it.
the Young-Girl is crazy about the authentic because it's a lie.
What's paradoxical about the masculine Young-Girl is that he's the product of a kind of "alienation by contagion." Though the feminine Young-Girl appears as the incarnation of a certain alienated masculine imagination, the alienation of this incarnation has nothing imaginary about it. she's concretely escaped those whose fantasies she populated in order to stand up against and dominate them. To the extent that the Young-Girl is emancipated, blossoms, and proliferates, she's a dream that turns into a most invasive nightmare. it's the freed slave returning as such to tyrannize the former master. In the end we're watching an ironic epilogue where the "masculine sex" is the victim and object of its own alienated desires.
"I want people to be beautiful"
The Young-Girl is the spitting image of the total and sovereign consumer; and that's how she behaves in all realms of existence.
the Young-Girl knows the value of things ever so well.
Often, before decomposing too visibly, the Young-Girl gets married.
The Young-Girl is good for nothing but consuming; leisure or work, it makes no difference.
because of its having been put on a level of equivalence with all intimacy in general, the Young-Girl's intimacy has become something anonymous, exterior, and objectlike.
The Young-Girl never creates anything; she re-creates herself.
By investing youth and women with an absurd symbolic surplus value, by making them the exclusive bearers of the new esoteric knowledge proper to the new social organization - that of consumption and seduction - the Spectacle has thus freed the slaves of the past, but has freed them AS SLAVES.
The most extreme banality of the Young-Girl is still to have herself taken as something "original."
the scrawny character of the Young-Girl's language, though it implies an incontestable retraction of the field of experience, does not in any way constitute a practical handicap, since it's not made for talking but for pleasing and repeating.
Blather, curiosity, ambiguity, hearsay; the Young-Girl incarnates the fullness of a misfit existence, which Heidegger pointed out the categories of.
the Young-Girl is a lie, the apogee of which is her face.
When the Spectacle trumpets that woman is the future of man, it's naturally talking about the Young-Girl, and the future it's anticipating is merely the worst cybernetic slavery.
For her whole philosophy, the Young-Girl manages to live with a dozen inarticulate concepts that immediately become moral categories, that is, the whole extent of her vocabulary is definitively reduced to the couplet Good/Bad. It goes without saying that to put the world before her for her to understand it, it has to be rather simplified, and to let her have a happy life, a lot of martyrs have to be made, and a martyr has to be made of her, first of all.
"Very visible physical imperfections, even if they do not in any way effect the aptitude for work, socially weaken people, transforming them into labor's involuntary cripples." (Dr. Julius Moses, Afa-Bundeszeitung, February 1929).
For the Young-Girl, the easiest things are the most painful, the most "natural" are the most feigned, and the most "human" is the most mechanical.
Adolescence is a category that was created only recently to meet the demands of mass consumption.
The Young-Girl invariably calls everything that she is chained up with "happiness."
The Young-Girl is never simply unhappy, she's also unhappy about being unhappy.
In the final analysis, the Young-Girl's ideal is domestic.
Bloom is the crisis of classical gender roles. And the Young-Girl is the offensive that commodity domination responds to that crisis with.
There's no chastity about the Young-Girl, and there's no debauchery either. The Young-Girl simply lives as a stranger to her own desires, which the commodity Super-Ego regulates the coherence of. The boredom of abstraction flows freely in this fucked up situation.
There's nothing the Young-Girl can't bring into the closed horizon of her trivial everydayness; poetry as ethnology, marxism as metaphysics.
"Albertine is from nowhere and that's rather modern: she flutters about, comes and goes, and draws from her lack of attachments a certain instability and unpredictable character that gives to her her power of freedom." (Jacques Dubois, For Albertine; Proust and the meaning of the social).
When it is speaking distinctly to the Young-Girl, the Spectacle isn't averse to a bit of bathmology. So all the meaning there is to the boy-bands and girl-bands is the fact that they put on a show of the fact that they're putting on a show. The glaring irony of this lie is that they're presenting as a lie what is on the contrary the truth of the Young-Girl.
The Young-Girl suddenly feels dizzy when the world stops revolving around her.
The Young-Girl understands herself as the holder of a sacred power: the power of the commodity.
"I love babies, they're so beautiful, so honest; they feel good."
The mother and the whore, in Weininger's sense, are both equally present in the Young-Girl. But the one hardly makes her any more praiseworthy than the other makes her blameworthy. Over time, a curious reversibility between the two can even be observed.
The Young-Girl is fascinating in the same way as everything that expresses its being closed in upon itself, a mechanical self-sufficiency or an indifference to the observer; like an insect, an infant, a robot, or Foucault's pendulum.
Why must the Young-Girl always feign some activity or other? In order to remain impregnable in her passivity.
The Young-Girl's "freedom" rarely goes beyond the showy worship of the Spectacle's most trivial productions; it consists essentially in a rulebook slowdown strike against the necessities of alienation.
The Young Girls' Future: the name of a group of young "communist" girls in 1936 organized for the purposes of "amusement, education, and the defense of their interests."
The Young-Girl wants to be either desired lovelessly or loved desirelessly. In either case, her unhappiness is safe.
The Young-Girl has love STORIES.
It's enough just to remember what she defines as an "adventure" as to get a pretty clear idea of how much fear the Young-Girl has of the possibilities.
When the Young-Girl gets old she's no more hideous than she is in her youth. From one end to the other, her life is merely a progressive shipwreck in formlessness and never the eruption of becoming. The Young-Girl stagnates in the limbo of time.
in terms of the figure of the Young-Girl, age and gender differences are insignificant. There's no age limit for being stricken by youthitude, and no gender is unable to take on a dash of feminitude.
Just like the magazines that are slapped together for her and that she devours so painfully, the Young-Girl's life is divided up and arranged to fall under a certain number of headings between which the greatest possible separation reigns.
The Young-Girl is she who, being no more than a Young Girl after all, scrupulously obeys the authoritarian distribution of roles.
The Young-Girl's love is merely a kind of autism for two.
What is still called virility is nothing but the childishness of men, and femininity that of women. Otherwise, one should perhaps speak of virilism and "feminism" when it's a question of acquiring an identity or free will.
The same cynical obstinacy that characterized the traditional woman, under house arrest in the duty of ensuring survival, now blossoms in the Young-Girl, but this time it's emancipated from the domestic sphere, and from all gender monopoly. It's now expressed everywhere: in her irreproachable emotional impermeability to work, in the extreme rationalization she imposes on her "sentimental life," in her gait - so spontaneously militaristic - in the way she fucks, holds herself, or taps away on the computer. It's also how she washes her car.
"A piece of information I gathered at a large well-known Berlin department store is particularly instructive: 'when we recruit sales and administrative personnel,' said an important personage from the personnel service, 'we put a high importance on a pleasing appearance.' From a distance he resembled the actor Reinhold Schunzel in his old movies. I asked him what he meant by that, whether it was a question of being sexy or just cute. 'Not exactly cute,' he said, 'it's about having a morally healthy glow about oneself.'
"I understand, actually. A morally healthy glow - that assemblage of concepts clarifies at once an everyday fact about decorated shopwindows, wage workers, and illustrated magazines. Their morality should be kind of rosy-cheeked, their rosy cheeks stamped with morality. That's what those who are in charge of selection are looking for; they want to extend into real life a veneer that hides a reality that's anything but rosy. And it's bad news for you, if your morality disappears under your skin and the rosiness isn't moral enough to prevent the eruption of your desires. The dark depths of natural morality would be just as threatening to the established order as a rose blazing in full flower without any morality at all. They're associated with each other so strictly that they neutralize one another. The system that imposes the selection tests also engenders this likable and genteel medley, and the more that rationalization progresses, the more the rose-moral colored makeup gains ground. We'd hardly be exaggerating to say that there's a kind of employee being made in Berlin that's uniform and tends towards the desired coloring. Language, clothes, manners, and countenances edge towards uniformity and the result is that pleasing appearance reproduced in photographs. A selection that is completed under the pressure of social relations, and one that the economy reinforces by stimulating the corresponding needs among consumers.
"Employees take part in this, for better or worse. The rush to the innumerable beauty schools also corresponds to existential worries; the use of beauty products is not always just for luxury. In fear of being seen as expired [products], men and women dye their hair, and forty year olds play sports to keep their tone. 'How does one become more beautiful?' is the title of a magazine that came out onto the market recently; it claims in its ads that it shows how to 'appear young and beautiful now and in the future.' fashion and economy, working hand in hand. certainly, those who can take recourse to aesthetic surgery are few. the majority fall in with the scribbles of charlatans and have to be content with preparations as ineffective as they are cheap. and in their interest, Dr. Moses, the above-mentioned deputy, has for some time now been fighting in Parliament to integrate the healthcare required for physical defects into public health insurance. the recently established 'German medical aestheticians' association' has signed on with this very legitimate proposition." (Siegfried Kracauer, the employees, 1930)
in the Young-Girl, the loss of metaphysical sense (meaning) is no different from the "loss of the sensitive," (Gehlen), where the extreme modernity of her alienation can be seen.
The Young-Girl moves within the forgetting of Being, no less than in the forgetting of events.
All the irrepressible agitation of the Young-Girl, in the spitting image of this society at each of its points, is governed by the hidden challenge of making a false and trivial metaphysics - the most immediate substance of which is the negation of the passage of time, and the obscuring of human finiteness - into something effective.
The Young-Girl resembles her photo.
Considering that her appearance entirely exhausts her essence and her representation exhausts her reality, the Young-Girl is that which is entirely expressible, and also that which is perfectly predictable and absolutely neutralized.
The Young-Girl only exists in proportion to the desire that "people" have for her, and is only known by what they say about her.
The Young-Girl appears as the product and the primary outlet of the formidable surplus-crisis of capitalist modernity. she is the proof and prop of the unlimited pursuit of the valuation process when the accumulation process itself is found wanting (due to the insufficiency of the planet, ecological catastrophe, or social implosion).
The Young-Girl enjoys covering up, with a falsely provocative secondary plane, the primary, economic plane of her motivations.
All the Young-Girl's freedom of movement does not prevent her from being a prisoner, and manifesting in all circumstances a captive's automatism.
The Young-Girl's way of being is to be nothing.
Certain Young-Girls see "success in emotional and professional life" as an ambition worthy of respect.
The Young-Girl's "love" is but a word in the dictionary.
The Young-Girl doesn't just demand that you protect her, she wants to be able to educate you too.
The eternal return of the same fashions shows clearly enough that the Young-Girl doesn't put on appearances, but rather that appearances put her on.
Even more than the female Young-Girl, the male Young-Girl shows with his imitation musculature all the character of absurdity, that is, of suffering, of what Foucault called "the discipline of the body" : "discipline increases the forces of the body (in economic terms of utility) and decreases those same forces (in political terms of obedience). In a word: it dissociates the power of the body; on the one hand it makes it into an "aptitude" and a "capacity," which it seeks to increase; and on the other hand it inverts the energy, the power that could result from it and makes a strict relationship of subjection out of it. (Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish)
Oh, the young girl, that receptacle of shameful secrets, sealed in her own beauty! (Gombrowicz, Ferdydurke, 1937)
There must be nowhere that a person feels so painfully alone as in the arms of a Young-Girl.
When the Young-Girl abandons herself to her insignificance, she draws even more glory from that; she has "fun."
"And that's just what seduces me about her, that maturity and sovereignty of youth, that fully self-assured style, while we down below, in school, had ideals and acne all over the place, gauche and awkward in our gestures every step of the way, her exterior was perfect. Youth for her was not a transitional period; for a modern girl, youth was the only real time of human existence ... her youth didn't need ideals, because she herself was an ideal. (Gombrowicz, Ferdydurke)
The Young-Girl never learns anything. That's not what she's there for.
The Young-Girl knows all too well what she wants in detail to want anything at all in general.
"Don't touch my bag!"
The Young-Girl's triumph originates in the failure of feminism.
The Young-Girl doesn't speak; on the contrary: she is spoken - by the Spectacle.
The Young-Girl carries the mask of her face.
The Young-Girl brings all greatness down to the level of her ass.
The Young-Girl is a purifier of negativity, an industrial profiler of unilaterality. She separates out the negative from the positive in everything, and in general only keeps one of them. Thus she doesn't believe in words, which in effect have no meaning coming from her mouth. That's easy to see by looking at what she understands by the word "romantic," and how little it has to do, in the end, with Holderlin.
"So, it's useful, then, to conceive of the birth of the 'young girl' as the construction of an object which different disciplines converge to build (from medicine to psychology, from physical education to moral education, from physiology to hygiene)."
(Jean-Claude Caron, Young Girls' Bodies)
The Young-Girl would like very much if the simple word "love" didn't imply the project of destroying this "society."
AH, MY HEART!
"Don't confuse your job and your sentiments!"
In the Young-Girl's life, deactivated and reduced-to-nothing opposites complete each other, but don't contradict each other at all.
The Young-Girl's sentimentalism and materialism are but two complementary aspects of her central nothingness, no matter how opposite they may be in appearance.
The Young-Girl enjoys speaking of her childhood with great emotion, to suggest that she hasn't got beyond it, and that fundamentally she's remained naive. Like all whores, she dreams of innocence. But, distinct from them, she demands to be believed, and believed sincerely. Her childishness, which is, in the end, but a fundamentalism of infancy, makes her the most cunning vector of the general infantilization.
For the Young-Girl, even the meanest sentiments still have the prestige of their sincerity.
The Young-Girl loves her illusions in the same way as she loves her reification: by proclaiming them.
The Young-Girl sees everything as free of consequences, even her suffering. Everything's funny, nothing's a big deal. Everything's cool, nothing's serious.
The Young-Girl wants to be recognized not for what she may be but for the simple fact of her being. She wants to be recognized unconditionally.
The Young-Girl is not there to be criticized.
When the Young-Girl has come to the end of the age of childishness, where it becomes impossible to not ask herself about ends without suddenly finding herself short of means (which can happen pretty late in this society), she reproduces. Paternity and maternity comprise just another way among others, and no less free of substance, to remain UNDER THE EMPIRE OF NEED.
The Young-Girl takes on above all the perspective of psychology, regarding herself as much as regarding the ways of the world. Thus she can present a certain consciousness of her own reification, a consciousness that itself is reified, because it is cut off from all acts.
The Young-Girl knows the standard perversions all too well.
The Young-Girl needs a kind of balance that is less like that of a dancer than it is like that of the accounting expert.
Smiles have never been any good as arguments. There is also such a thing as the smile of skeletons.
The Young-Girl's feelings are made up of signs, and sometimes just of simple signals.
Everywhere that the ethos is failed or decomposing, the Young-Girl appears as the carrier of the fleeting, colorless morals of the Spectacle.
The Young-Girl's not supposed to understand you.
The Young-Girl's predilection for actors and actresses is explained by the elementary laws of magnetism: whereas they represent the positive absence of all quality, nothingness taking on all forms, she is but the negative absence of quality. Thus, the actor is the same as the Young-Girl; both her reflection and her negation.
The Young-Girl conceives of love as being a private activity.
The Young-Girl carries in her laughter all the desolation of late-night bars.
The Young-Girl is the only insect that consents to the entomology of women's magazines.
Identical to unhappiness in that sense, the Young-Girl is never alone.
Everywhere that the Young-Girls dominate, their tastes must also dominate; that determines the tastes of our era.
The Young-Girl is the purest form of reified relationships; she is the truth behind them. The Young-Girl is the anthropological condensation of reification.
The Spectacle remunerates the Young-Girl's conformity amply, though it does so indirectly.
In love more than anywhere else, the Young-Girl behaves like an accountant, always assuming that she loves more than she is loved, and that she gives more than she receives.
Among Young-Girls there is an uninspiring community of gestures and expressions.
The Young-Girl is ontologically a virgin, untouched by any experience.
The Young-Girl may prove solicitous if you're really, really unhappy; that's an aspect of her resentment.
The Young-Girl doesn't know anything about the flow of time, at most she gets emotional about its "consequences." Otherwise how could she talk about getting old with such indignation, as if it were some kind of crime committed against her?
Even when she's not trying to seduce anyone, the Young-Girl acts seductive.
There's something professional about everything the Young-Girl does.
The Young-Girl still flatters herself that she's got "practical sense."
In the Young-Girl, even the flattest moralism puts on a whorish air.
The Young-Girl has all the strictness of economy about her, and yet she knows less of abandon than of anything.
The Young-Girl is all the reality of the Spectacle's abstract codes.
The Young-Girl occupies the central kernel of the present system of desires.
Every experience the Young-Girl has incessantly withdraws back into the prior representation she had made of it. The whole outpouring of concreteness, the whole of the living part of the passage of time and things are known to her only as imperfections, modifications of an abstract model.
The Young-Girl is resentment that smiles.
There are certain beings that just make you want to die before their very eyes, but the Young-Girl only excites a desire to conquer and get off on her.
When the Young-Girl mates, it isn't a movement towards the other, but a movement of escape from her untenable nothingness.
The supposed liberation of women has not consisted in their emancipation from the domestic sphere, but rather in the extension of that sphere over the whole of society.
Faced with anyone who tries to make her think, it will never be long before the Young-Girl starts claiming how realistic she's being.
To the extent that what she's really hiding isn't her secrets, but her shame, the Young-Girl detests the unexpected, above all when it isn't pre-programmed.
"Being in love: a stress-relieving drug."
The Young-Girl never stops repeating it: she wants to be loved for who she is - meaning she wants to be loved for the non-being that she is.
The Young-Girl is the living and continuous introjection of all repressions.
The Young-Girl's "I" is as thick as a magazine.
Nothing in the Young-Girls conduct is wrong in itself; everything is properly ordered within the dominant definition of happiness. The Young-Girl's foreignness to herself borders on mythomania.
As a last resort, the Young-Girl fetishizes "love" so as to not have to face up to the fact of the integrally conditioned nature of her desires.
"I don't give a shit about being free, as long as I'm happy!"
"The chemistry of passion: Today everything's explainable, even falling in love! Goodbye romanticism; this whole phenomenon is apparently just a series of chemical reactions."
Divorced from one another, the Young-Girl's love and ass became just two empty abstractions.
"The example of the movie hero interposes itself like a ghost when adolescents embrace or when adults commit adultery."
(Horkheimer/Adorno, the dialectic of reason)
The Young-Girl swims in deja-vus. for her, the first time something is lived is always [at least] the second time it has been represented.
Naturally, there's been no "sexual liberation" - that oxymoron! - anywhere, just the pulverization of everything that's been an obstacle to the total mobilization of desire in view of commodity production. To decry a "tyranny of pleasure" isn't an indictment of pleasure, but of tyranny.
The Young-Girl knows how to play the part of sentimentalism.
In the Young-Girls' world, coitus appears to be the logical penalty for all experience.
The Young-Girl is "happy to be alive," so she says at least.
The Young-Girl establishes relationships only on the basis of the strictest reification and poor substantial content, so it is certain that what unites people only separates them.
the Young-Girl is optimistic, delighted, positive, content, enthusiastic, happy; in other words, she's suffering.
The Young-Girl is produced wherever nihilism starts talking about happiness.
There's nothing special about the Young-Girl; that's what her "beauty" consists in.
The Young-Girl is an optical illusion. From far off she's an angel, and from up close she's a devil.
The Young-Girl doesn't get old; she decomposes.
Everyone knows in general what the Young-Girl thinks about worrying about stuff.
The Young-Girl's education follows an inverse trajectory compared to all other kinds of education: immediate perfection, inborn into youth first of all, and then efforts to keep herself on the level of that primary nullity, and at the end failure, faced with the impossibility of going back in time.
Seen from afar, the Young-Girl's nothingness appears relatively inhabitable, and even comfortable at times.
"LOVE, WORK, HEALTH"
The Young-Girl's beauty is never a private beauty, or a particular beauty of her own. It is on the contrary a beauty with no content, an absolute beauty, free of all personality. The Young-Girl's "beauty" is but the form of nothingness, the form of appearance attached to her. And that's why she can talk without choking about "beauty," since hers is never the expression of any substantial singularity, but a pure and phantasmic objectivity.
"The fundamental ideological confusion between women and sexuality ... only today has achieved its fullest amplitude, because women, who once were subjugated as a gender, are today 'LIBERATED' as a gender ... Women, youths, bodies, the emergence of which after thousands of years of servitude and forgetting in effect constitute the most revolutionary potentiality there is, and thus the most fundamental risk there is to any established order - are today integrated and recuperated as an 'emancipation myth.' 'Woman' is given to women to consume; Youth is given to youths to consume, and in this formal, narcissistic emancipation, their real liberation can be successfully prevented." (Jean-Trissotin Baudrillard, The Consumer Society.)
The Young-Girl offers an unequivocal model of the metropolitan ethos: a refrigerated consciousness living in exile in a plasticized body.
"too cool!!!" Instead of saying "very," the Young-Girl says "too," [meaning excessive]; but, in fact, she's all too insufficient.