Apropos to the demands of the heterosexual demographics, Tinder has been borne out of a need for people with hair triggered sensitivity about their 'ego' and the reinforcement of another Beatles lyric serving up wholesome love. Tinder, if you happen to be aloof from tech society (or under the age of 30), is a smartphone application that allows the respective user to dictate their own sexual forthcomings with a curt swipe of the wrist left or right-depending on whether they are sexually aroused and lasciviously burning, ultimately deciding whether they 'like' or 'dislike' the other users picture. There are some little furtive Easter eggs along the way, also; some transvestites like to advertise themselves as women, as do some gay men-perhaps some people are hornier than others, but this certainly isn't my raison etre. The entire concept of applications such as Tinder, although being a veritable business venture, is an inexorable statement of intent that is mandated by a culture of hollowness. Mantras such as 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder' and 'beauty is on the inside' are completely moot with concepts such as fleeting dating applications; although, those mantras are entirely fallible as the prefrontal cortex dictates a thing or two about physical beauty. People who subscribe to these savage scrutinisations seldom even posit a thought or an insight, rather opting for generic adage such as, 'love, life, laugh' or a link to their Instagram account followed by an unwelcome herpes-infested cyber kiss. The plethora of Marilyn Monroe wannabes is pervasive, and isn't even based on her acting career or marriage to one of the greater baseball players of his time (Joe DiMaggio)-but rather her sultry 50's sex appeal and inimitable mole; they are essentially obsessed with a mole.
The entire Tinder process is painful for anyone who cares to expend a fart of consideration for sanity'the women are pining for a boastful approach of haughtiness and big dick syndrome, followed by a 2 week bender of an interview process whereby the guy continually picks and prods apart the girl's social circles and typically tiresome job title (which, even she admits, is 'boring) whilst the female responds with short answers and intermittent smiley faces like a sulking prepubescent girl who won the spelling bee. The men are looking for sex, but are somehow being coerced into full on dates-creating the cuddly social predicate that drink+meal+social activity=privileged penetration.
Ultimately, Tinder revolves around sex with undertones of past abusive relationships, subtexts of narcissism, footnotes of emotional crippled conversation and the salience that if there is a God-he is surely having a great time watching all of these nuts and bolts while away their time screwing holes within holes within holes. Please, if you are of the cerebral type, don't even bother with something as puerile as Tinder-just go to a public toilet instead, you'll probably have a better time.