Tinder is Frankenstein’s monster incarnate, algorithm serving as the great doctor’s laboratory and thumb swipes as scalpel swipes, organizing from memory the perfect sex doll to facilitate rehearsed desires. Organic tissue damned to a permanent showcase, remove the eyes from subject two, posing with a golden retriever puppy, head cocked slightly to angle sunlight along the stubble encrusted jawline, built of genetic wonderment and a YMCA student discount. Or the bikini clad booby trap, nipples jutting out like binoculars extending the scope of a pervert’s purview. 

Tinder is corporate love run amok. In this stage of capitalism even human relationships are commoditized. If Tinder serves as the process to display value then dinner and a movie, matched with prick size and orgasm satisfaction is cost depletion once driven off the lot. 

Nothing is sacred but profits.

Nothing is promised but failure.

And that is love in the digital age.