* Little Ditty About Tom & Suza-anne

Men do not demand genuine beauty, even in the most modest doses; they are quite content with the mere appearance of beauty. That is to say, they show no talent whatever for differentiating between the artificial and the real. A film of face powder, skillfully applied, is as satisfying to them as an epidermis of damask. The hair of a dead Chinaman, artfully dressed and dyed, gives them as much delight as the authentic tresses of Venus. False bosoms intrigue them as effectively as the soundest of living fascia. A pretty frock fetches them quite as surely and securely as lovely legs, shoulders, hands or eyes.
… Such transparent devices reduce the psychologist to a sour sort of mirth, yet it must be plain that they suffice to entrap and make fools of men, even the most discreet.”
                                       –H. L. Mencken, The Lure of Beauty

   I’ve previously commented about women who flaunt their butts on MySpace, and the men who kiss those butts [click here to read].

   However, I couldn’t resist focusing on one such instance in particular, as it seems to represent the logical extreme of this tawdry cultural phenomenon. It involves Suzanne Stokes, something of a minor celebrity in La-La-Land by dint of having been Playboy’s Playmate of the Month® for February 2000.

   Apparently, she’s a legend in her own mind because she (a) is blonde, (b) has large breasts of dubious authenticity and (c) has posed nude for Hugh Hefner (a.k.a. “Hef”). Among other fashionable alterations to her body, she sports a tattoo of a crown just above her pubic area; a photo on her MySpace profile focusing on this (ahem) enhancement proclaims: “Only Royalty May Enter.” Well, the sort of fellows with whom she consorts certainly appear to be royal something-or-others, but we needn’t elaborate on that.

   Suzanne has a couple dozen or so cheesecake shots on her MySpace profile, in the fashion of a latter-day Jayne Mansfield (complete with star-shaped pasties to placate the MySpace censors), and comments are invited. On July 16, 2006, one “Tom,” a 33-year-old male from Haverhill, Massachusetts gallantly obliged, favoring her (and all of us, too) with the following tender paean to Ms. Stokes’ feminine charms:

THE BEAUTY U BEHOLD YOUR BEAUTY IS UNCANNY AND TOTALLY DEVINE.
I CAN NOT FATHOM, HOW OUR LORD CREATED A WOMAN SO FINE.
YOU PERSONIFY, ALL THAT IS BLISSFUL AND EROTIC.
THOSE PRETTY EYES FULL OF MYSTERY, ARE SO EXOTIC.
YOUR PHYSIQUE IS PETITE, BUT ABLAZED WITH IMMENSE PASSION.
YOUR HEART IS PURE AND AGLEAMED WITH INFINITE COMPASSION.
YOUR FACE IS ABSOLUTELY FLAWLESS WITH POWERS OF ENCHANTING.
WITH BURST OF LUMINOUS BEAMS THAT ARE EVERLASTING.
NO MAN STANDS A CHANCE, AGAINST YOUR ARSENAL OF CHARMS.
ANY MAN WOULD BE IN AWE TO HOLD YOU IN HIS ARMS.
TO BE CLOSE TO YOU, IS TO FLOURISH UNDER A CELESTIAL AMBIANCE.
FILLED WITH AN INTOXICATING AND ALLURING FRAGRANCE.
YOUR VOICE HAS THE ABILITY TO ENTICE LIKE A RHYTMIC SONG.
ANYONE THAT KNOWS YOU, FOR YOUR MYSTIC PRESENCE, THEY LONG.
YOU TO HAVE A VIBRANT STREAK, AS WILD AS AN ORCHID.
ANY MAN THAT STANDS BEFORE YOU, WILL SURELY BE PIERCED BY AN ARROW FROM CUPID.
WITH YOUR SIMPLEST GESTURE YOU AROUSE AND IGNITE DESIRE.
TO HAVE YOU FOR THEMSELVES, ALL MEN SHOULD ASPIRE.

   This execrable post-adolescent doggerel has to be, without the shadow of a doubt, the most laughably pretentious, clumsily contrived piece of dreck I’ve ever read in my life, and I seriously doubt if anyone (male or female) with an IQ over 60 would disagree with me about that … including Ms. Stokes!

   Now, Tom’s self-proclaimed motto reads: “Live, Laugh and Love often” — only one notch less mindnumbingly unoriginal than, say “Work like you don’t need the money, love like you’ve never been hurt, and dance like no one’s watching.” I suppose we should all be grateful that he didn’t counsel us “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”

   The fair Ms. Stokes, by contrast, declares: “Don’t hate just masturbate,” which, in any event, is at least somewhat original. Now, while this remark may strike some as the arrogant taunt of an insufferable vanity case, contracting terminal narcissism is probably an unavoidable professional hazard for Playboy Centerfolds®, who are ceaselessly deluged with countless such testimonials (some more sophisticated, some even less). Ms. Stokes is, after all, a professional cocktease, and she’s not making any bones about it — and she does at least spell “masturbate” correctly (probably more than Tom could’ve managed) despite the fact that she grew up on the shores of Lake Okeechobee; after all, we all know Florida isn’t exactly renowned as a hotbed of quality education.

   So, OK … back to Tom (sigh). Where to start? The spelling? I’ll let the “U” slide, as it seems to have become accepted in the context of the Internet. But, uhm, Tom … it’s spelled “divine” and “rhythmic.” Really now, bro — any guy trying to impress a woman with a love tribute ought to check his spelling before sending it to her. And try “powers of enchantment” (if you want to actually make sense, that is).

   Obviously, the unrelenting upper-case is Tom’s way of giving emphasis — of letting her (and us) know that he really, REALLY means it! But what I “cannot fathom” is why there is a comma after “I can not fathom.” Nor, speaking of strange divisions, can I fathom why “cannot” is split into two words, but I rather doubt that Our Lord had much to do with it.

   I strain to plumb the fathomless depths of other poetic mysteries, as well. “No man stands a chance”? A chance of/for what, exactly? Oh, and am I to understand, then, that Suzanne’s voice has an “intoxicating and alluring fragrance”? And what in the world does Tom — who has never been within 1,000 miles of Suzanne — know about her fragrance, anyway, or her voice, for that matter?!

   Yet other enigmatic questions present themselves, in a dizzying spiral. Are orchids necessarily wild? I thought many were cultivated in greenhouses? But here, finally, I must force myself away, for this way surely lies madness….