A lobotomised society is manifested in its full potential.
I want to write something about this reconstructed and standardised society.
I’m quite obsessed with denouncing plastic surgery that doesn’t have a therapeutic purpose — all these injections, all these applications, deforming treatments, just to have precise dimensions of lips, cheekbones, chin, and breasts.
It is a form of uniformisation of society, especially female society, to make people — and mostly women — homologated, equal, without peculiar characteristics, which in the end shapes and flattens even the personalities, making them homogeneous and not distinct, and not individual.
I fixate on this because if individualism is missing in our society, criticism is missing. Also, that freedom of individual expression is missing, the freedom to be peculiar, to be imperfect, to be people with physical defects and peculiarities that give a push to make society varied, to make people think and even criticise what is happening — meaning that the masses are bent and moved by a few people who take the trouble to govern and decide for the multitude, even in very dangerous areas such as war, such as conflict, or governmental decisions that heavily impact daily life.
So this is my protest, it is my poem of going against the current, almost embracing anarchy, but not in the traditional and dangerous and violent way, but in the way of opposing this hegemony, the dominance of the uniformisation of faces, of bodies and also of minds.
A lobotomised society, women’s faces with barcodes, lips swollen to a perfect 40-60 proportion, cheekbones lifted at a 45° surgical angle, chins sculpted and enhanced like statues — deformed, breasts shaped like cantaloupes or products on a haberdashery counter.
Injections, fillers — guillotines of diversity and individualism.
Severing the peculiar nature of the body and the person is now essential to today’s society.
Where once imperfection used to bloom, where the peculiar story of a face and a body used to live,
now everything has been replaced by flattened mannequins, simulacra of fake beauty and hypocrisy,
built and planned at the table to serve a single standard, a model that annihilates voice, thought and will,
turning these women and these people into so-called “quiet” beings — and therefore harmless in any possible revolution of thought.
The ancient triumph of nonconformism-revolution has been supplanted by the triumph and hegemony of digital conformism.
Faces are cloned, personalities are flattened, individuals are amputated from their individual soul and their ability to rebel against this media monster.
This is an invisible war, a slow, painful amputation of individual freedom, masked as false care and improvement of physical appearance.
And I scream against this aesthetic prison, I break the complicit silence, and I want the value of imperfection, of scars and of defects to be rediscovered — those things that make individuals unique and alive.
Faces and bodies modified, retouched, with a barcode that can trace them, branded with fire or laser onto these manipulated skins.
These are no longer individuals, but beings mass-produced, catalogued and sold in a shop of standardised beauty.
And that barcode is nothing but a signature of uniformity, as if it were the stamp of a society that no longer wants particular faces, but identical masks.
It is no longer a skin that tells stories of life, of dramas and suffering, of joy and euphoria, but a cold label of conformity and lack of expression that cancels every difference of thought and soul.
A lobotomised society, made of touch-ups, cuts, injections and reloads — all planned, all as part of a regular, endless cycle, until that plastic, that silicone, that filler will be replaced again or accumulated in those mask-like bodies that will end up addicted to the very same substances they pay dearly for every year.
Lisa
