In Canada, a woman is pursuing her dream of a world where appearance doesn’t matter—particularly in regards to employment. “Fat shaming” has entered the public lexicon as a term akin to racial profiling, frequently employed to shout down critics of obese women.

We’re now a culture that values not having standards—except diversity and tolerance, of course. The beauty of women is the latest standard to come under attack, with the implied notion that all women are beautiful no matter what size or predilection. That’s why concerns about the dangers of obesity and the natural aversion to it are now deemed “fat shaming.”

And unfortunately for humanity, this trend has an anthem in Meghan Trainor’s “All About That Bass.”

Trainor’s ode to female chunkiness has climbed the charts and become the hit of summer 2014—in stark contrast with the summer of 2013’s hit “Blurred Lines”, a celebration of male sexuality and the ambiguity between consensual and non-consensual sex. “All About That Bass” not only promotes the supposed attraction to fat women, but argues that they are in fact superior to thin women.

It’s a laughable notion that doesn’t rely on the actual desires of men, or at least White men. That’s the point though. This is about reinforcing and comforting the widening (in more ways than one) demographic of young American women who are overweight, yet full of themselves (also in more ways than one). For an entire generation of women that were promised their respective Prince Charmings and were told that their very existence made them beautiful, the reality of the sexual marketplace is a bucket of ice cold water on their self-esteem.

Fortunately for them, the sexual marketplace of the Kali-Yuga hands women the power and even Eldritch horrors like Lena Dunham can get laid. Due to the expanding size…er…percentage of obese women in America, many men find themselves lowering their standards to adjust to the new normal. This could possibly supply one of the myriad reasons porn has proliferated in the modern world as men get to visualize their lust for women they never meet in real life.

The Age of Dunham is strange era indeed.

“All About That Bass” is a doo-wop influenced modern R&B number that’s heavily influenced by Black music and culture. Trainor sports a prole face, a stubby figure, and a Black voice that makes her an odd choice for a pop starlet—even for this era. The song isn’t worse or better than anything else on the radio from a musical standpoint. Trainor’s Black influence is also far less disgusting than that of Iggy Izalea—the other popular White female singer courting Blackness.

It’s the message coupled with the music video that makes this a song indicative of a larger cultural trend. As previously noted, the song is an argument for the attractiveness of heavier girls. How so? Because they got bigger “booty”:

Yeah, my mama she told me don’t worry about your size /
She says, “Boys like a little more booty to hold at night.” /
You know I won’t be no stick figure silicone Barbie doll /
So if that’s what you’re into then go ahead and move along

Her “mama” obviously didn’t give her good advice. The “Bass” in the song is in reference to this added cushion. No “treble” means no healthy sizes to be had here.

Where it gets more of an “inspiring” tone is telling girls that every inch of their body is beautiful, no matter what people say:

I’m bringing booty back /
Go ahead and tell them skinny bitches that /
No I’m just playing. I know you think you’re fat /
But I’m here to tell ya /
Every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top

Note this shifting of traditional norms concerning beauty only applies to women—if we rely on the music video.

The video details Trainor magically stealing a Ken Doll-like man from a gorgeous, petite brunette while Black back-up dancers twirl around. Oh, and the mandatory big, Black twink awkwardly dancing is here as well.

Message: even if you’re fat, you can land the man of your dreams, and you should expect nothing less. I can already see this as the argument for many purchases of thousand calorie cupcakes and missed days at the gym. As American society continues to sit idle and watch obesity sweep over it, songs like this serve to spread unrealistic and harmful expectations to young women that lead to disappointment and major health problems.

These women unwilling to challenge themselves to exercise and eat healthy will be met by the brutal reality of male desire and spend more lonely nights with their real boyfriends Ben and Jerry. Far more troubling is the fact that more of these women turn to the only men who find “Bass” attractive—and they sure aren’t White.

In fairness, White men are growing fatter as well and obesity is a scourge that applies equally to both genders. But men don’t have number 1 hits telling us to love our lard.

In spite of the song’s message against beauty standards, the feminist shriekosphere despises it. Why? Because it implies that a woman has to rely on a man for self-esteem. Apparently you just need the shriekosphere to tell you your obesity is a-ok and not worry what those evil men say.

Regardless of the feminist consensus, this song has done far more than they have to spread fat acceptance of women than they have. Not every woman reads Jezebel. Nearly every young woman has heard Meghan Trainor. What this song shows, in addition to work of Lena Dunham, is a culture that is hell bent on encouraging women to not heed good sense and accept their chosen deficiencies. It’s also a culture that wants men to see women like Trainor and Dunham as beautiful, when reasonable standards say otherwise.

But good sense, Tradition, and enforced standards are signs of a healthy society. We don’t live in a healthy society.

I’m already dreading the inevitable release of the next fat acceptance anthem “Real Men Love Extra Curves.”