Kalokagathia: The Beautiful and the Good


In Europe they seek to ban ugly porn. Well, who likes ugly anyway? I ask as the beauty seeker that I am. But who defines beauty and how?

In America they seek to ban guns. Well, wasn’t America built by cowboys with Colts? Asks the casual grannie living for ages with that cute pink Glock in her purse. But what can a Glock do against that drone in the sky?

Regulators, feminist liberals or macho sociopaths, don’t give a damn about what they deem the “unwashed masses,” also known as “we, the people.” What regulators want is more power at their fingertips. Hegel and then Freud detailed about this condition. Regulators are also best pals with a kind of intelligentsia that promotes unregulated ugliness, painful porn and arrogant aggressivity. The symbiosis between politicians and the talking heads of the mainstream media permeates party lines. The ancient model of kalokagathia, the possession of the beautiful and the good, has long been forfeited by the run for greed and power, for the ugly and the perverse. Pompous words are empty. All what’s left of them are the letters.

Why do I use kalokagathia for the beautiful and the good? An Athenian concept and not a Christian one? Because of the modern Pharisees, such as those judging you by your clothes, if you wear them or not. And the latter touched me quite some. Because the few clothes that I own, and are not second-hand, I wear only when having to. Not that I feel bad in a chic new dress. Not at all. I often crave to go shopping for myself. But I always end up buying food and consumables for the tribe before money runs out. Reaching for my desired department stores remains a dream that I can share with hubby, and with you, indirectly, through my blogs. At least he knows when to throw away some twenty bucks on a red rain jacket, adding it to the avocados, broccolis, carrots, brown rice cakes, green salads, cauliflowers, radishes and bananas in the caddy. It was the last red one left among several beige and blue of no interest to me. Remorseful, I told him to put it back, because we can’t afford it. To this, he listed me about five practical reasons on why I should accept his gift. I still had to decide for myself, between this and a pair of shoes for the kids. Then he pronounced the decisive phrase: “If you don’t buy it, you’ll feel sorry!” At home I was happy to study how I look in the mirror, wearing nothing else than the red rain coat. Got me some daring exhibitionist thoughts (for a hot summer when we’ll probably drive to a far away place).

Four days later, Don takes me, together with the kids, to the city where I buy them the shoes and other spring gear.

600x800-red-rain-coat-doris-dawn

Erotica, or the manly preferred “synonym” for it: porn, is beautiful (at least in part) because the naked body is an awesome creation (putting aside what junk food does to it). Under modern feminist regulations, some masterpieces of classical art would risk to be banned (the way they banned them during the Middle Ages because of the early Christian feminism). Under current democratic dictators, living citizens may be turned to dead bodies on short notice, at the press of a button (Stalin’s wettest dreams came true). Modern times, and arts, have a propensity for the ugly and the bad. “Money driven!” — some will stress out. But money, like guns, are lifeless objects, or concepts. They can provide for the good and the beautiful as well as for the awful and the hideous. They cannot kill or pervert unless when in the wrong hands. This gets our mental exercise back to square one: who owns who?

“As a historian once observed, two thousand years ago, Nero was considered to be the divine emperor while the apostle Paul was a little known Roman prisoner, soon to be beheaded. Who knew that centuries later, people would call their dogs Nero and their sons Paul?” (have read this at townhall.com)

When Jesus arrived among our ancestors, He found a corrupt society, not far from the one we’re given to live in today. There were two main parties: the Pharisees and the Sadducees, one claiming to praise Him but only to the letter, with the tips of their lips, the other sustaining that there’s no afterlife (which incidentally may be true for some). Corruption was everywhere, left or right. So The Son of God went to the honest (fishermen and peasants) and to the honest about being dishonest (the non pedantic tax collectors and common whores), where He made true friends. Sure, He went to every realm of society in order to show us that regardless where He steps He can find faith and redeemable souls. What Jesus made very clear to you and to me is that we shouldn’t trust ANY man-made system, as it ultimately boils down to a conglomerate of intrigues, interests and foolishness. Those guys-of-the-system eventually condemned Him to the Cross, proving His teaching.

I knew that my man has scandalous inclinations. Another reason to love being his woman: you can’t get bored with such a man 🙂 .  I also wished to remain the good girl who climbs up the social ladder. Up on what? On a pile of lies and misrepresentations?, on the stench of greed and manipulation? What’s the (major) difference between an atheist, claiming that he must steal here and now because there’s no tomorrow, and a conformist faithful person forced (by the hypocrisy of the system) to cover a scam or two under beautiful icons of saints? What’s the difference between an open hater and one that motivates his neighbor-aversion with eclectic moral quotes? What’s the ethical code that puts bread on the table for your kids? Is there one? Indeed it is, this one:

36 “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ 40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Matthew 22:36-40)

If Jesus could make a scandal or two, with a not so political correct line, for the shock of the system (by speaking the truth), we may ask ourselves what is worse to do: prostitute ourselves politically in oceans of deceit?, or dance on a corporate tune for a monkey reward?, taint our souls so we can avoid all scandal, out of fear?, or doing porn? — which is a scandal to begin with, among other scandals, more or less concealed.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe wrote once that “To witness two lovers is a spectacle for the gods.”

Do you feel somehow godly when your eye unveils the naked intimacy between two lovers? When the woman graciously helps her man out as he brings love to her? Wasn’t I made to love and help him? Wasn’t he made to love and care for me? What if we don’t wear the gear of the times? Our love comes, and goes, from beyond time.

By the way, during Baroque times, the Popes and clergy were not walling nude painters behind 18+ adult regulations and click buttons, treating them like criminals, but the church gave them contracts to paint saints and angels as well.

Why don’t you see me with bunny ears, now around Easter, you may wonder. Because Easter, eggs and bunnies are NOT about Our Lord’s Resurrection, not at all. These are pagan rituals of fertility, associated with the  Babylonian she-idol of fertility, war, love and sex, known as Ishtar or Astarte, depending on geography. Go read in the Old Testament about where the Houses of Judah and Israel dug themselves into for whoring with this she-idol. Now you may wonder also why things turned out so wrongly in our civilized Western societies. When history repeats herself, it also aggravates the condition of her actors. This is why I don’t celebrate Easter, because I won’t whore with this ages-old she-idol.

Happy Resurrection Day to all of you watchers (and readers)!

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