“Girls we love for what they are; young men for what they promise to be.”
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Vicky Leandros, Après toi. Boys have to earn their value, girls have to preserve theirs. This Eurovision classic is about the Alpha Widow, a new name for the old term “damaged goods” — a woman whose sexual experience leaves her incapable of loving any man who’d give her his commitment. Vicky Leandros (born Vassiliki Papathanasiou) won the 1972 competition with that song, representing Luxembourg; it’s in French, the video has English subtitles:
With you, I had learnt to laugh
And my laughter only comes from you
After you, I will be only the shadow
Of your shadow, after you
Even one day if I go on with my life
If I keep the promise
That joins two being together, after you
I will be able maybe to give my affection
But none of my love
Be the guy who makes her laugh, as goes the Red Pill counsel, but Dionysian ethos alone will burn through the capital of a civilization:
All matriarchies have one thing in common: over time the women become ugly, inside and out. They become that way in part as a defense against being bombarded by endless unwanted advances. They become corrupted by their adventures with to the most vulgar expressions of masculinity. But the kicker is, part of them also loves all that attention along with the lowered expectations on their behavior, and they become complacent, having lost the incentive to bring anything to the table besides their gash.
Every civilization strikes a balance between license and repression. Whites have done well in relying on female self-restraint (modesty) and male honor, both enforced by law and habit. Slut-shaming for women, “You Break It, You Buy It” for men. Anything less would be uncivilized:
So under Patriarchy, girls get to relax a little. The bitch-shields are lowered because the first-tier girls aren’t pestered by presumptuous Betas’ clumsy fumbling and the second-tier girls by Alphas’ nakedly mercenary interest in them. And paradoxically, this collective self-restraint does not create a sexless or repressed environment. Quite to the contrary: Betas are charming without being creepy, while the Alphas lay on the charisma without triggering a lower-tier girl’s anti-slut defenses. And the girls can then let down their guard and actually be pleasant to everyone.
So I referenced modesty. Before geographic mobility weakened our social bonds, grandmothers told girls that modesty is the path to happiness. You can apply the word to a woman’s dress and demeanor. On another level, observe a good woman’s behavior: she’s not going to try to parry a man’s flirtation if she’s single and he’s out of her league, or if she’s married. She knows that she’s weak, that appearances matter, and that a stranger’s lewd interest is gross. She’ll walk away, not letting things escalate to where she’s being gamed.
Nana Mouskouri and Demis Roussos, To Gelakaki. Those of us from small nations, we don’t erect our flag when our brave men and women in uniform murder Middle Eastern civilians with an air strike. Chances are, if you relate to the small world of your grandparents, you don’t relate to Tomahawk missiles. The meek shall inherit the Earth, keeps me going. Maybe you relate to this dialogue between Nana and the (outlandishly hirsute) Demis:
NANA: Can we sing a song together?
DEMIS: It’s a nice idea.
NANA: Yes, do you remember an old Greek song, saying: “The underlining of your jacket I weaved with all my tears and my sighs…”
DEMIS: Oh, you mean To Gelekaki [trails off in Greek]
NANA: [Laughing like a little girl] Yes, yes…
DEMIS: Oh, that was my grandmother’s song!
BOTH: [Laughing together]
NANA: Do you mind if we sing it together now?
DEMIS: Not at all.
See her move when she catches her native rhythm!
Eleni Tzoka (née Milopoulou). She was born in Poland to Greek parents and she has a lovely voice, especially on her Polish-language Christmas recordings. She publicly forgave the killer of her only child, 17-year-old Afrodyta. This was in 1994. When police informed her that the girl’s boyfriend was arrested as the suspect, she phoned the boyfriend’s mother and told her that they both had just lost their children.
On forgiveness… here it feels different than when some churchian cuck in America forgives a black murderer, or a European liberal forgives a Muslim truck driver for killing his son or daughter. It really is different with your own folk… even given Eleni’s different ethnic origin. Among Christians of the same culture — in the family, so to speak — there is no vanity incentive to make a political show of faux-Christian “forgiveness.”
A war atrocity (such as interracial murder) demands collective retribution. It’s a profoundly impersonal crime in which the victim is a stand-in for his national group and is dehumanized by his very association with his killer because his life and death amounts to a scoreboard loss. Here, individual forgiveness is misplaced because war is not between individuals, and acts of war continue to claim new victims until the enemy is stopped. Here, forgiveness is treason.
In contrast, forgiveness for an “in the family” crime of passion, given the killer’s remorse and just punishment, in a way gives a greater dimension to the humanity of the victim and the murderer. Eleni’s daughter Afrodyta had dated Piotr G. since she was 13, and he shot her after they started drifting apart when she was accepted to an art college while he had dropped out of trade school. He was sentenced to 25 years in prison, Poland’s most severe criminal penalty at the time, so he will be out two years from now. From a newspaper clipping of the sentencing, the photo inset:
When the judge read the sentence, a cry was heard. Tears ran down Eleni’s face, and Piotr’s — the girl’s killer.
Maria Athanasopoulou, “Golden Dawn Song.” Greeks created an identitarian movement that owns the streets before any other country in the West did. The song is good, has English subtitles, and the video has well-chosen images to go with the lyrics. Another things that makes listening to Greek enjoyable is picking up the words that are at the root of our own languages. Examples of ones I recognized in the song:
- patrida: country
- agoni: struggle
- pioni: pawn (“pionek” in Polish)
- antropi: people
- hellines: Greeks
- mega alexandro: Alexander the Great
- philli: race
There is a powerful moment early in the song where the lyrics go on about the depredation of globalists and their homegrown lackeys, and then there is the verse, with photos of Golden Dawn leaders:
But I know there are people
– Allá xéro óti ypárchoun ánthropoi
[The phonetic Greek is from an online translation, not actual lyrics]
Who really love this land
– Poios pragmatiká agapá aftí ti gi
And when we line up like soldiers
– Kai ótan katatássoume san stratiótes
Pains and woe to the traitors, we will find you!
– Pónoi kai alímono stous prodótes, tha sas vroúme!