Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Wilber Armstrong and I'm an internationally renowned philosopher and social critic based in Leeds, England. You've probably heard of me.
As a man who's struggled his entire life to find true love, this community and forum caught my eye in a way that no other has. I've been browsing through many of the posts here, from the ethics of hitting women, to "looksmaxxing". You all appear to have some very profound ideas, but I figured you guys could use some input from a proper philosopher.
Let's break it down. The theory is that women, or "foids", are purely attracted to men based on looks and status, and to a lesser extent financial standing. But why is this? Why are we told our whole life that it's all about "personality", when overwhelming anecdotal evidence suggests otherwise? After some pondering, I believe I've devised the perfect answer.
Attraction, we are told by the naïve, is a mystery. An alchemy of souls, a trembling of ineffable depths. This belief persists only because most people lack the courage to stare directly into the fluorescent-lit aisle of human motivation. When one does, one finds not mystery, but inventory.
For desire is not a reaching toward the Other as such, but a rapid audit of surfaces. The eye, that tyrant of the senses, makes its judgments long before thought is permitted to embarrass itself with poetry. Bone symmetry, skin luminosity, posture calibrated to suggest vitality without desperation, these are the true metaphysics. Everything else is commentary delivered after the verdict has already been reached.
Status enters only as a secondary hallucination. It is beauty that has learned to outsource itself. Where the body falters, titles compensate; where flesh decays, symbols are embalmed. The uniform, the corner office, the verified checkmark. These are prosthetic cheekbones, rented jawlines. Money, meanwhile, is merely attractiveness rendered liquid, a universally accepted lubricant for the imagination. It whispers not “I am desirable,” but “I can purchase the conditions under which desirability may briefly occur.”
We insist, of course, that females are drawn to “confidence,” “humour,” or the notoriously unmeasurable “vibe.” But these are just respectable euphemisms for outcomes. Confidence is the glow of someone already affirmed by mirrors and markets. Humor is beauty permitted to be clumsy without consequence. The vibe is what remains when physical appeal and social proof have already done their work and wish to avoid being thanked.
Thus attraction is less a meeting of souls than a convergence of spreadsheets. Each person arrives carrying an unconscious balance sheet, running calculations at a speed that feels like fate. We call it chemistry because accounting sounds unromantic, and romance is the final luxury we insist on affording ourselves, even as we strip it for parts.
In the end, love is not blind. It has perfect vision and very poor manners.
“Before love learns to speak, it learns to look; attraction is the doorway through which every higher meaning insists on entering.” - Wilber Armstrong
Thanks for your attention. If you'd like to learn more about me, follow @officialwilberarmstrong on Instagram (the page isn't really "up and running" just yet, but stay tuned for upcoming content).
As a man who's struggled his entire life to find true love, this community and forum caught my eye in a way that no other has. I've been browsing through many of the posts here, from the ethics of hitting women, to "looksmaxxing". You all appear to have some very profound ideas, but I figured you guys could use some input from a proper philosopher.
Let's break it down. The theory is that women, or "foids", are purely attracted to men based on looks and status, and to a lesser extent financial standing. But why is this? Why are we told our whole life that it's all about "personality", when overwhelming anecdotal evidence suggests otherwise? After some pondering, I believe I've devised the perfect answer.
Attraction, we are told by the naïve, is a mystery. An alchemy of souls, a trembling of ineffable depths. This belief persists only because most people lack the courage to stare directly into the fluorescent-lit aisle of human motivation. When one does, one finds not mystery, but inventory.
For desire is not a reaching toward the Other as such, but a rapid audit of surfaces. The eye, that tyrant of the senses, makes its judgments long before thought is permitted to embarrass itself with poetry. Bone symmetry, skin luminosity, posture calibrated to suggest vitality without desperation, these are the true metaphysics. Everything else is commentary delivered after the verdict has already been reached.
Status enters only as a secondary hallucination. It is beauty that has learned to outsource itself. Where the body falters, titles compensate; where flesh decays, symbols are embalmed. The uniform, the corner office, the verified checkmark. These are prosthetic cheekbones, rented jawlines. Money, meanwhile, is merely attractiveness rendered liquid, a universally accepted lubricant for the imagination. It whispers not “I am desirable,” but “I can purchase the conditions under which desirability may briefly occur.”
We insist, of course, that females are drawn to “confidence,” “humour,” or the notoriously unmeasurable “vibe.” But these are just respectable euphemisms for outcomes. Confidence is the glow of someone already affirmed by mirrors and markets. Humor is beauty permitted to be clumsy without consequence. The vibe is what remains when physical appeal and social proof have already done their work and wish to avoid being thanked.
Thus attraction is less a meeting of souls than a convergence of spreadsheets. Each person arrives carrying an unconscious balance sheet, running calculations at a speed that feels like fate. We call it chemistry because accounting sounds unromantic, and romance is the final luxury we insist on affording ourselves, even as we strip it for parts.
In the end, love is not blind. It has perfect vision and very poor manners.
“Before love learns to speak, it learns to look; attraction is the doorway through which every higher meaning insists on entering.” - Wilber Armstrong
Thanks for your attention. If you'd like to learn more about me, follow @officialwilberarmstrong on Instagram (the page isn't really "up and running" just yet, but stay tuned for upcoming content).
