Empires have come and gone. Alt-culture gives way to the new and the demons therein will live and die with the times: The likes of 'Becky, 'Stacy' and the great dread whore, 'Veronica'.
They all had their dance in the sunshine.
One-by-one their infamy cracked and shattered, withered and weathered like the skin of a woman hitting The Wall at full-speed, no survivors.
Culture is reshaping itself as we speak. This new world has given rise to a monster that has been sleeping for some time now, lurking in the shadows. She was always there making a huff and a fuss, but never at the magnitude being witnessed in this new age of scarcity.
Her wrath is being seen in grandiose doses across the Western world that had been so pampered before now. The world is now one giant 'safe space' just how she wants it.
The nightmare of retail; bane of managers.
The mistress of the 4x4 Rang Rover.
What is this sum of all fears?
Karen was the result of an upbringing surrounded by Leanns and Jeans. Karen had a mom named Jean. Karen's friends' moms were either Jeans or Leannes.
Karen was the 'girlboss' of all the Sarahs on the playground. Karen typically grew up in suburbia, had a pool in the backyard and had all of Barbie's collection.
Karen's dad was a Bob (better off beta) who most likely built missile guidance systems for the U.S government or invented new kinds of plastic at a lab in the valley. Some Karens got As and Bs, some Karens even got Cs (gosh!). However, poor grades yielded shrugs from Daddy and an upside down smile from mother Jean. However, good grades would yield lots of money from grandma who was most likely, a Gertrude.
Jeans and Leanns were the Boomer generation's equivalent of today's Karen.
The moms of Karens were almost always Jeans or Leanns. Leanns were just Jeans with a little more sexual agency, and after sexual agency became more common, Leann and Jean became one thing: Karens.)
Teachers back in the 1970's-1980's were Jeans/Leanns, and the Jeans/Leanns loved the Karens of course, for their neat, sexy cursive and their indifference to pedagogy. “Why is our state bird the common loon?” one wanted to know. “Why not the chickadee, or the blue jay, or the cardinal? Why, in fact, not the mallard duck?”
Karens never asked why you had to memorize all the state birds. They just did it. If Karens were a state, their motto would be “Because it says so!”
Karens love rules, except when they apply to them.
Karens would vote for Hitler if he rose from the dead and sought power once more.
Karens would fuck Stalin if they could after they had a beer with him.
Karens would fuck Donald Trump as most of them falsely claim to have done (#poundmetoo).
Karen is usually depicted as White (fascist).
Karen is typically of the middle to upper-class (bourgeoisie).
Karen will ironically vote Left and for the rest of her life blame rich White people (white heterosexual men) for all of her shortcomings.
Karen is almost always a mother/single mom (yields to male authority/gov).
Karen is 100% (there are only two genders) always of the female sex (inferior).
Karen is the great and terrible beast in a Bob-cut.
Karen typically has daddy issues: Lack of attention from Bob.
It's why Karen hates powerful White males; the daddy (back-hand) she secretly needs.
Always viciously demands to 'speak to the manager' if its been a bad week for her: Couldn't get-off with her Hitachi Magic wand since her stupid husband/kids are always near; Chad from her college years was in town but was too busy banging Veronica (a future Karen).
Karen always rolls by in an oversize hatchback carrying two-four screaming kids loosely strapped in tow in order to scream at you for no reason other than needing to take her shit out on others due to the severe lack of fulfillment in her own life.
That is why Karen is in everyone's business all the time: She doesn't have her own.
Karen may usually travel in a roaming pack of other like-minded, Karens. They can typically be spotted at the local Starbucks plotting their revenge: Run a CIA-esq operation on the manager at Publix.
If you see a bunch of Karens stuffing themselves into a booth at the coffee shop, understand that you are witnessing the hours before a local manager gets whacked.
Cashier: Just having trouble scanning this.
Lady: Well, I guess it is free today then LOL
Cashier: LOL shut the fuck up, Karen.
Karen is the reason why operating a business is harder than it has to be.
The world both hates and mocks Karen. She is one part punching bag, one part Disney villain.
Karen spreads her malevolent evil in many forms:
Sells Scentsy and Younique to earn extra money to pay for her wine addiction; Amazon shopping addictions, fertility treatments, etc.
Takes up Yoga and becomes a Vegan in order to claim moral superiority over others (virtue-signaler): Empty spirituality.
She is the BossBabe of the cult of Mantra-preneurs.
She drinks unnecessarily complicated Starbucks orders.
Thinks being a part of the established order is somehow 'stunning', 'brave', 'strong', 'heroic', and 'independent'.
Screams at you in eldritch tongue if you make the folly of drizzling vanilla and not caramel sauce on her foamy frappuccino.
She wears crystals and uses salt lamps to "realign her Chakras".
Masturbates more than a teen boy because her husband can't stand the sight of her.
Thinks her husband's ED is the result of ,"sex is just not a priority for 'us' anymore, right honey-boo?"; he has 'matured' and is not a teen boy anymore.
Denies her husband true beauty (hers if she tried), life and freedom.
Worst of all, Karen sucks up alimony checks from her ex-husband(s) as vigorously as a Dyson vacuum.
Karens have now proudly taken their place in the center of the world stage, the policewomen (unarmed) of all human behavior. All non-Karens of all ages should be on the lookout for Karens — mocking you when you ask for a raise, cutting your best jokes, shaming you for losing your lanyard — and their assaults on our happiness, selfhood and freedom.
We know that Karens are going to Karen. They are unstoppable because you let them be. All they see are open doors. It's time to simply close the door and flip the "We are CLOSED, fuck off Karen" sign on the door.
Memes are faithful depictions of reality.
Shut the fuck up, Karen.