#when i first picked up the nicomachean ethics by aristotle i was and am still amazed at how these thoughts are the same i've pondered on

[astrxealis]

i love being this little nerd guy sooo much ^_^

[kyberphilosopher]

Eunoia

The Mantis crew decides to take a well deserved break.  Word Count: 2422

Warning(s): straight fluff, short Requested: yep This can be read for a female, male, non binary, or any other reader.

Eunoia is the shortest English word containing all five main vowel graphemes. It comes from the Greek word εὔνοια, meaning "well mind" or "beautiful thinking”. It is also a rarely used medical term referring to a state of normal mental health. In rhetoric, eunoia is the goodwill a speaker cultivates between himself and his audience, a condition of receptivity. In book eight of Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle uses the term to refer to the kind and benevolent feelings of goodwill a spouse has which form the basis for the ethical foundation of human life.

* ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･  *

Cal is actually not as observant as people think he is. You know because you’ve been leaning against his doorway, watching him, for about two minutes now and he hasn’t noticed a thing. 

Maybe if you were in his position you’d be the same. That seems about right. He’s hunched over his desk with the lamp on bright, tinkering with something that you can only assume is for BD-1. He’s probably lost in thought. Maybe he’s dreaming of better days. Or maybe he’s just trying to figure out which wires and bolts connect to which. There’s no way to be certain from your position. He’s the mechanic, you are not. 

So why have you been watching the redhead from his doorway for three minutes now? A simple answer. He is your friend, and you enjoy his company. Even when he’s not giving you attention, completely unaware to your presence in moments like this one, lost in his own world, it’s his warmth that really counts. Cal is such a relaxing bout of fresh air compared to everything else in the galaxy, in your life. It’s like being at a great party, but whether you enjoy it or not, stepping outside and tasting the air and the smell of something wonderful. Even if you had a day full of talking to people and had become burned out, talking to Cal would have been no problem at all. Maybe in a way that makes him your favorite person. 

Yeah, maybe. 

BD-1 jumps onto Cal’s desk. His head looks at the boys hands, cocking about as if observing. Then he meets your gaze, only to find a smile. One index finger raises to your lips, prompting the little droid to stay quiet about this, before you turn away and head towards the main part of the ship. 

“Where’s Cal?” Greez gruffs upon seeing you. He’s shaking spice onto a steaming brown plate, which puts a pep in your step. Greez’s cooking always makes life better. 

“In his room,” you answer. You turn from the doorway to the counter, where something hot does cause stringy, swirly puffs of air to waft upwards from a large metal container. With your back to Greez, you pull a plate for yourself and begin hulling it full of food. Some sort of rice or grain?  

“Hmph, that reminds me,” the Latero begins mid-chew. “Me and Cere was talking about taking a vacation.”

“Vacation?” you scrunch your eyebrows and put the lid back on the container. “Where to?”

“The beach maybe?”

You scoff as you turn around and lean on the counter. One hand holds the plate while the other uses your index finger to prod at the mush. It smells alluring. The individual pieces of it stick to your skin. They burn and sting, but it’s so small it doesn’t bring much of a reaction. “I don’t know a lot of beaches.”

“Well, ya know,” Greez shrugs. “Just a thought.”

* ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･  *

It was more than just a thought. Six days later, the Mantis touches down on Scarif. But first there’s the issue of landing. 

“Watch that tree,” you point, leaning over Cal’s shoulder as he co-pilots beside Greez. A second later, the ship gives a great rock and the palm tree crunches beneath it. “You weren’t watching the tree.”

“Sorry,” Cal offers sheepishly. 

“What?” Greez says. He’s the one in main control of the ship. He’d never let Cal take over the whole thing. “What he do?”

“Ran over a tree,” you snort. 

“Cal!” Cere scolds, turning around in her chair. 

“I said I was sorry!” Cal defends. 

“I’m telling the wookies what you did,” you whisper.

“Don’t,” Cal whispers back, though it’s still desperate. 

The Mantis parks itself in a field of tropical emerald on the cuff of a beach. The sand is white, the waves cyan and royal blue and sloshing. There’s several beaches on the planet. All of which are very beautiful. Would be a true shame if anything were to ever happen to Scarif. It’s so different compared to so many other planets in the galaxy- not occupied by Imperial forces or scumbags. 

Greez waves everybody off. Cere exits first. Cal is ahead of you, but he steps to the side and rather gentlemanly insists, “You first.”

You hum and move past him. The Scarif air hits your face with a warm breeze. It smells of salt and water and some kind of flower. The horizon goes orange and pink and salmon with the setting sun. It is... serene. It nearly knocks you off your feet. It takes his voice to realize Cal is beside you at the bottom of the ramp. 

“Woah,” he offers simply, in as much awe as yourself. 

“Woah,” you repeat in agreement. It’s still for a second. “Come on. Let’s join them. Or else I’ll have to cast a Jedi mind trick on you.” Your fingers wiggle up and down by Cal’s face for dramatic effect. 

Cal rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he utters with a push on your elbow, urging you forward into the sand. 

Okay, so maybe you like Cal more than just a friend. But who can blame you? Things had been feeling different between you two lately. You’d always gotten along pretty smoothly. You made up for skills that Cal seemed to lack himself, and his abilities- human and nonhuman- never ceased to amaze you. He was a friend. And then, when you tended to the stab wound he’d gotten from Vader, there was a moment where you held each others eyes. After that, the joking became more constant. The little touches on the shoulders and elbows and forehead taps happened more often. And you started watching him from his doorway sometimes and... and at some point you just caught feelings. 

Cal Kestis seemed to feel the same, but who could really say? No use poking that bear right now. 

The sand is soft, even beneath your boots. Cere stands in front of the water, just breathing in the air. The light breeze makes her vest ripple. It’s tempting to just join her. 

“Gotta say,” you hear a familiar voice say from your left and below. “We picked a nice place.”

“Maybe we should stay a while,” you joke, though you secretly hope for it, to Greez. 

“Yeah,” Greez rolls his eyes. “Until this moron gets us into trouble again!”

Cal perks up. “What did I do?”

“Anybody who can lift things with their mind is gonna attract some attention, kid. You just brought it on us.”

“So true,” you jump on with a smirk to Cal. 

“Alright,” Cal turns away towards the beach. You position yourself so you’re closer to him, and Greez takes the opportunity to waddle away further ahead to waves.

“Sorry for bursting your bubble, Cal,” you continue with a smug grin. “Maybe in the next life, don’t be born with force powers? Just a suggestion.”

“You think you’re so funny,” Cal tells you, though he’s smiling too. His pale green eyes spare a glance at you, thick lashes dancing on his boyish face. 

Your knees bend until you collapse on your bottom in the sand. It’s so soft, it doesn’t even resist your weight. It makes way for you easily, like a blanket. “I do.”

Cal joins you in the sand quickly enough. You’re both face to face, the wind in your hair and the water at your side. It crashes every few seconds, but it’s peaceful. Some kind of bird flies overhead, and butterflies are in the forested area behind you. The light of the sunset illuminates Cal’s hair more than usual. The brightest points of his eyes are highlighted. 

“He loves you,” you offer. 

“You think so?”

“I am one hundred percent certain... Just don’t touch the ship.”

Cal raises his hands as if surrendering. “Understood. Hands off.”

You turn your head to the water. Greez and Cere are standing ahead, most likely having a conversation of their own. The tide carries so much of the stress your shoulders hold away from you. Everything with the holocron, the empire- it was ridiculous what living in hiding could do to a person. It’s hard to imagine how Cal did it for so long. How painful that must’ve been for him. How painful it is to imagine him in pain. 

“How’s your stomach?” you decide to ask at last. 

Cal tilts his head for a second. “Better.”

“Perfect?” you raise your knees to your chest and rest your arms on them. 

Just then, a little whirring noise pulls both of your attentions away. BD-1 bounds down the ramp of the ship, twirling around in observance as if excited. “Hey, BD,” Cal greets. “I know, buddy. I know.” The droid places itself in Cal’s lap, still looking around at the change in scenery. 

“We’ve never been able to do this before,” you tell him. “I mean, I wasn’t here for the whole adventure. But I was here after and before and... and just... we’ve never done this.”

Cal is quiet. “I haven’t either.”

You look at him. 

“Taken a break. I guess time on Bracca was the closest thing.”

You smile softly. “I’m sure it was really nice.”

Cal rolls his eyes along with his head, though the corner of his chapped pink lips turn upwards. “As nice as it could be with the Empire.”

“That’s pretty nice.”

Cal and you huff a humorous puff of air in unison. 

“What were you doing before the Mantis?” Cal suddenly asked. 

“Oh,” you roll your eyes and wave your hand. “Not important. Don’t even worry about it.”

“Come on!” Cal shifts. 

“I’m serious!” you defend. “It’s boring stuff. You wouldn’t want to hear about it. Not as interesting as the force.”

“Well anything related to you is interesting,” Cal says casually, one of his palms lifting in the air for effect as he shifts again. 

Well that makes your face feel hot. Anything related to you is interesting. How often do people get to hear that? And how casually it comes out of Cal’s mouth, the shrug of his shoulders that you tie so easily to him, that’s how you know it’s honest. Not only have you heard something intimate that not many people will in their whole lives, but it was also heartfelt. 

“Yeah,” you mutter, though it sounds distant and far away as you watch Cal’s eyes. He doesn’t seem to mind. Then you snap back to reality. “This is gonna be good.”

Cal watches you pop to life, standing up entirely and running towards the water. BD-1 perks up as well to watch you just in time to see your much bigger form nearly knock the Latero over. And, much to Cal’s surprise, the little droid jumps from his lap and bounds after you. The red head decides he’s next to follow. 

“BD-1,” he rasps, also nearly pushing Greez to the ground. “Don’t touch the water!”

But it’s too late. However, nothing happens. BD-1 stands in the shallow waves, unelectrocuted and unbroken. He doesn’t spark a bit, only cocking his head in wonder at his friend. 

“Think fast!” a voice calls. 

A splash of warm and salty water slaps against Cal’s face. He cringes, turning his shoulders away on impact with a little gasp that makes his throat burn. “Hey!”

Another splash. 

Cal turns to you. You’re standing with your hands on either side of yourself, open and matching your smug and proud face. Your boots are still on, which can’t be comfortable given that they’re now submerged in water. BD-1 is on the back of your shoulders- something Cal thought was only between him and the droid. Apparently not. 

“What’s wrong, Cal? Can’t handle the current?”

Cal stills himself. Then he bends down himself and flicks water upwards. 

“Hey! No!”

He does it once more. 

“No!”

So you too repeat your original actions and begin forcing salty liquid up into the air in Cal’s direction as well. BD-1 grips onto your collar for stability while you both go to town, careful to not open your mouths too wide and taste the saltiness. 

“Be careful you two!” Cere calls from the shore. Neither Cal nor yourself heed her words, continuing on in disrupting the tide. 

“They’re fine,” Greez assures with the wave of one of his many arms. 

“Are you sure about that?” Cere responds with a hand on her hip as she watches you tackle the Jedi to the sandy terrain below the shallow water. 

“Completely fine.”

You push both of Cal’s shoulders down jokingly, careful not to subdue his head under the water. He cranes his neck to keep it above the waves. Through his soft lashes, Cal can just see your smiling, evil intentioned face with BD-1 on your shoulder gazing at him. 

Honestly, it feels just how it did last week- the last time you had watched Cal in his room. Gazing at him, admiring him. Just now you get to touch him, relax with him, splash water at him, even. You wish you could capture this moment if not forever, then for a while, and Cal wishes the same. 

* ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･  *

Sorry it’s short. Idk if it’s my best work certainly but I haven’t written for Cal or Star Wars in a while. But I didn’t kill the reader in this fic or have someone sick or in danger! So it might be my first ever straight fluff? I don’t know. But what a good character to do it with. I’m glad to give Cal a break. And i hope the requester enjoys. 

[falcqns]

an apostles redemption

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Grace Walker)

Warnings: fluff, swearing, family angst, mention of nuclear weapons and firearms, facial injury, mention of anxiety disorder and anxiety attacks, implied smut 

A/N: hope you enjoy!

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three |

Ragged Night 

When Grace awoke the next morning, August was not laying next to her, as she had hoped. When she sat up, shed noticed Kal wasn't in his bed either. She put on some socks, and headed down the stairs to find her husband and dog.

He wasn't in the kitchen or living room,  but the door to the basement was open, and Grace immediately knew where he was. He was in the gym.

She ventured down the stairs, and into the large home gym. August was wearing a grey muscle tank and red gym shorts, with his Adidas running shoes on his feet. He had his red boxing gloves that were monogrammed with the words 'The Hammer', a Christmas gift from Erica Sloane. He was aggressively punching the punching bag hanging from the ceiling, his AirPods blaring some type of heavy metal.

Kal was laid by the mirrors opposite August, watching his dad take out his energy on the bag. Kal's ears perked up when Grace walked into the room, and stood up to go and get pets from his mom, which alerted August that he wasn't alone anymore.

He turned his head and smiled when he noticed Grace. He took out his AirPods and placed them back in the charging case, before walking over to give his wife a kiss.

"Good morning, love," Grace said, as she wrapped her arms around her husbands sweaty midriff.  

"Good morning," August responded, as he took off his punching gloves.

"I'm going to make breakfast, so why don't you go and shower and we'll eat together?" Grace offered. August smiled. It had been weeks since he had had his wonderful wife amazing cooking.

"Sounds good to me, angel." He pressed another kiss to his wife's lips, before Grace led Kal upstairs with the promise of food. August cleaned up the gym from his morning workout, and headed up to their shared bathroom. He had wished Grace would join him, but he knew she didn't trust him enough for that amount of affection. August understood, and was going to do anything to earn that trust back.

He had a quick shower, and put on a t shirt that had Geralt of Rivia on it, from his favourite video game, The Witcher. He also pulled on a pair of grey sweatpants, and made his way down stairs, following the smell of bacon.

He walked into the kitchen but stopped in the doorway. Grace was stood at the stove, tending to their food. Harry Styles was playing from her phone, the sounds of 'She' echoing through their large kitchen. Two plates were sitting on the island, and there was a stack of books sitting on the same stool where he sat last night while Grace stitched him up. He walked over, and picked up the books, looking through them.

'What We Owe To Each Other , T.M. Scanlon,

A Treatise Of Human Nature, David Hume,

Groundwork in the Metaphysics of Morals, Immanuel Kant,

No Exit, Jean Paul Satre,

Fear and Trembling, Soren Kierkegaard,

Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle.'

Ethics books. He knew these books were in the house, as he gave them to Grace for her birthday. She loved The Good Place, and wanted to know more about ethics, so August bought her all the books mentioned in the show, and she had read them all. He knew he would have to read ethics books when he came home, but he didn't expect it to start so soon.

Before he could think about anything else, Grace turned around, and emptied eggs on both of their plates, and smiled at him.

"You look much better," She said, as she turned back to the stove to grab the pan with the bacon.

"I feel better, other than I'm hungry, and my face stings a little still." He said.

Grace placed the bacon on their plates, and walked over to the medicine cabinet. She grabbed the creme she had put on his face last night, and handed it to him.

"My hands are dirty from food, so just put this over the whole scar tissue area. It'll help it heal and help with the pain." He nodded, and did as he was told.

A few minutes later, his face didn't sting anymore, only a cooling sensation, which felt amazing.

They were sat at the breakfast booth, with Kal laying underneath, on their feet.

"August, I have to tell you something," Grace said nervously.

"What is it?" August replied, slightly afraid of her response.

"Sloane is coming over today, with Hunt and his team."

He immediately dropped his fork. "What? Why?"

Grace immediately recognized he was starting to panic, and she reached over and grabbed his hand.

"I'm doing it to help you. I'm going to sit them down, and I'm going to explain to them that you want to redeem yourself and that you will do anything to win back their trust."

August stood up to pace, which scared Kal, who nuzzled his head into Grace's lap.

"What if they shoot me?" He asked.

"You know that I don't allow weapons in the house, other than our shot gun. They are aware of that rule too, and will not be bringing any weapons. It's going to be fine, Auggie."

August felt his anger bubbling up. "How can you be so sure Grace? How?"

Grace stood up, got in his space, and wrapped her arms around his waist. She decided to ignore the face that he called her by her actual name. "Because, you're going to go into the basement and stay there. I am going to tell them that you are alive and willing to do anything to earn back their trust. I will tell them that they are allowed to be mad at him, but to at least allow you to try and prove yourself. I know that Ethan is going to be the first one to trust you. You need to be his friend."

August rolled his eyes, sighed, and then placed his bandaged forehead on to hers. "Okay," He agreed. "When do they get here?" He asked as he pressed a kiss to her cheeks, which make Grace blush.

Grace glanced down at her Fitbit. "It's only 8:30, they're not coming until noon, so we have a few hours. During that time I want you to start reading," She said, unraveled herself from August, and walked over to where the books laid.

"We'll start off with Scanlon. You don't have to read this whole thing today, but I want  you to read as much as you can while I go and get groceries." She said, handed him 'What We Owe To Each Other', and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before she headed to the door to the backyard to let Kal out for a pee.

He nodded at her and took the book into the living room to begin to read, clearly not hungry anymore.

'We all believe that some actions are morally wrong. But when we claim that an action is wrong, what kind of judgement are we making? Judgements about right and wrong cannot be straightforwardly understood as factual claims about the empirical world or about our own psychology. Yet they do seem to make claims about some subject matter, claims which are capable of being true or false. Moreover...'

'God this is going to be a long few hours,' August thought to himself, as he began to read.

Grace finished eating, peeked into the living room where she saw her husband reading the book, and she smiled to herself. She grabbed her keys, and left the house. She made sure to lock the door behind her, so no one who wasn't invited could get in.

She religiously checked her security app on her phone to ensure Augusts safety, and to her surprise, he continued to read the book. She knew he didn't want to read moral philosophy and ethics books, but she also knew that he realized he had to if he had a chance to gain back not only her trust, but his country's as well.

She grabbed all the essential groceries she would need, as well as a few treats for August. She decided to reward him for his good behaviour, much like a child, but she knew that would work.

August did not have a good childhood. He was an only child, but his parents barely paid attention to him. His dad also worked in the CIA, and was killed when August was 8, just a day before his 9th birthday. His mother became distant and cold almost instantly, and told her little 8 year old that 'she had nothing, and no one left,' after her husband died. August tried to please her the best he could, but nothing he ever did was good enough for her. On his 18th birthday, he had had enough. He told her that he didn't appreciate that she was not a good mother to him. That nothing he ever did was good enough. That he always had to do hard physical labour, and wasn't able to enjoy his teenage years. His mother, on that same day, told him that she wished he had died instead of his father, as she could replace him, but not her husband.

August didn't  forgive her for many years, and he still fully hadn't. He talked to her on her birthday, and only to wish her a happy birthday. The only time she was proud of him was when he joined the CIA. He had joined to figure out who killed his father, and subjected him to so many years of abuse and neglect.

Once he found out his father had gone rogue and was killed by the IMF, he became angry, and shut himself off from everyone in his life. He became what the world see's today. The Hammer. The guy who gunned down every single Syndicate agent he came across. The man who almost wiped out India, Pakistan and China, with two nuclear bombs.

Sometimes Grace couldn't believe how different their lives were before they met. Grace grew up in a loving and nurturing household. Grace was the youngest of four, her older sisters Melissa and Julia, and her big brother Rick. Melissa had moved out before she was born, but Julia and Rick were still in school, and both living at home. The only trauma that she had experienced in her life was when Julia was kidnapped, and she moved in with her sister Melissa so her mom could focus on finding Julia, and she was only 6 years old. Her sister was found soon after and everything went back to normal.

She had noticed August had severe childhood trauma just 5 weeks into dating. It was the first time she had spent the full night with him, and he woke up in a cold sweat, and screaming. He was inconsolable for multiple minutes, and only when Grace got him water and rubbed his back, did he calm down. He told her a little bit about it, but only his fathers side, not about his mothers abuse. His mothers abuse came out when they were planning their wedding, and Grace kept bugging him to invite his mother.

'"She's your mother August! She has a right to come and see her son get married!'"

"That doesn't change the fact that her and I don't get along, and I don't want her ruining our day."

"Why? Why don't you get along? She's your mother, she loves you."

"NO SHE FUCKING DOESN'T! I HAVE NEVER, IN MY ENTIRE TIME OF BEING ALIVE, HEARD HER TELL ME SHE LOVES ME! THE LAST CLOSE TO 'I LOVE YOU' WAS 'IM GLAD YOU JOINED THE CIA TO MAKE YOUR FATHERS MEMORY PROUD'! SHE NEVER WANTED ME, BUT WAS FUCKING STUCK WITH ME AND SHE MADE SURE I KNEW THAT!"

Grace immediately stood up and enveloped him in her arms. She felt his head hit her shoulder, and his sobs began to spill out.

"It's okay my lovely. I love you. I'm sorry you went through that, but the beauty of being an adult is you can make your own family. It's going to be okay."'

He had never expressed himself like that before, and Grace knew that marrying him would have its challenges, and the challenge she was currently facing was the biggest of them all.

She wrapped up at the store, and headed home. While she drove, she attempted to figure out how she was going to explain to Sloane and the IMF that August deserved a second chance, when she didn't fully trust him again yet. Although, he had begun to prove himself worthy of her help, even in less than 24 hours.

Just before pulling into the driveway, she remembered she needed to check the mail. She drove to the mail box, and checked their slot. There were a few bills, other junk mail, a package from Amazon for Grace, and package from Julia, which was also for Grace.

Her and Julia had stopped talking after she got engaged to August, who Julia didn't trust. Every once in a while, though, she would get letters and packages from Julia on holidays, and sometimes it would be something to give to Ethan. She put the mail in the passenger seat of her car, and headed back to the house.

She arrived home, and August took a break from reading to help her with putting away the groceries. She managed to hide his treats from him, and locking them up in a a secret compartment she had installed in the pantry while he was in Kashmir. She felt that if he knew she bought those for him, he wouldn't earn it.

She gave August a hug and kiss, told him she was proud of him, and went to her office to work on a binder to help Auggie, the package from Julia in tow.

She made a book tracker, and even made assignments based on the books he'd be reading, and what he'd be learning. She would add more when and if Sloane told him what he needed to do. He had a long few months, or possibly years ahead of him, and he would need all the structure, support and love he could get. She thought about reaching out to his mother to let her know that her son was not dead, but decided to wait and ask August, although she knew what his answer will be.

Her gaze drifted to the package, and decided to open it. She ripped the tape off, and the folds popped open. On top was a letter, labeled with Grace's name. She opened the letter and read the contents.

'My angel Gracie,

I heard about August, and I'm sorry. I know I never trusted him, but that's not why I'm writing.

I've been in your place. Maybe not exactly, but I've lost a husband too. It sucks. I can't imagine the pain and heart break you are feeling right now, and I wish I could be there with you.

I was in Kashmir at the time, and he looked very determined. I know that's not what you want to hear, honey, but I thought it was important to tell you. He also gave me a letter to give to you, which I've included. I don't know what it says, I didn't read it. I want you to know I'm back in the States, at Mom's house. If you want to visit, or if you want us to come to you, we can. Just let Mom know, okay?

I love you sweet girl,

Julia'

Grace felt tears fall onto her cheeks. She didn't know what to think. Finding out her sister knew what August was planning should have made her angry, but it made her sad. She placed the letter down on the desk, and picked up the other letter, which was labeled 'Baby girl" which was August's name for her.

She opened it, and began to read.

'My sweet angel.

I love you, baby. I'm so sorry for what I'm doing, and I know it means I may never see you again, especially after you find out I did it. I don't want you living in a world that is this cruel. You have so much of your life ahead of you, and you deserve the best.

I won't be coming home. You will get everything. The house is paid off, the cars are paid off and there is several million dollars in our bank account, provided to me by the Syndicate and Lane.

They will not hurt you. They will not touch you. Sloane and I had an agreement that if I was to be disavowed or killed, you would be protected no matter what. Both you and I know that if anything were to happen, Ethan will do anything to make sure you stay safe.

I never wanted to hurt you, and I know I promised not to, but I have to do this. I love you with my whole heart. I wish I could have given you a family like you wanted, but I couldn't bring a child into such a world.

You will never forgive me, but let me tell you this.

Julia is here, and I will make sure she is safe. I will try to get her to come with me, but there's no promises. I understand she could never trust me, and never will. I never wanted to hurt you or your family. I'm so sorry my love.

I hope you have an amazing life, and find someone who can love you like I couldn't, and gives you what I couldn't. I love you with all I am baby, and you'll be the best mama ever, when your time comes. Give Kal all the treats for me, and tell him that his Daddy loved him.

Auggie.'

Grace had tears pouring down her face now. All he was trying to do was protect her, but he was doing it in the wrong way. She wished he could see the good in himself, but he just wasn't there yet. He would be one day though.

There was also a picture of Julia and her on the day she was born. On the back, in Julia's handwriting, said:

' You and me on the day you were born. You were so innocent. I prayed you would stay that way. The moment I held you I told myself I would never let anything harm you. You're so special to me, and I love you angel. You're my favourite sibling, but don't tell Rick, he doesn't know ;)'

Grace giggled, and placed the picture on Julia's letter. It was pretty obvious to everyone that being the youngest, Grace was the favourite to all her siblings.

Julia had also included some other pictures throughout her life, like Julia's grad from med school, Grace's high school graduation, and their trips to Disney that they took. Julia had included some Kashmirian snacks and a bracelet that was hand stitch-monogrammed with her name. She smiled at everything she had been given by her big sister. She didn't talk to her, so she treasured everything Julia gave her.

There was another letter. Grace opened it to find similar bracelets with Ethan and Ilsa's name on them, as well as a Virginia post card. On the back of the post card read:

' Our wounds are often the openings into the best and most beautiful part of us.'

Grace put that envelope to the side, knowing it was meant for Ethan and Ilsa.

Her phone buzzed beside her to let her know that Sloane, Ethan, Ilsa, Benji, and Luther would be arriving soon, and Auggie needed to get to the basement.

She rushed down the stairs, and headed straight to the living room.

"They're gonna be here soon, come with me, bring the book." She said. She grabbed the gun off of the coffee table where she had dropped it the night before, and she headed to the basement, with August tagging along behind her.

They went to the basement, and headed through the gym, to a false door, which led to their emergency bunker. August had this installed incase of a threat of a terrorist attack. Being they lived in Washington, they knew a large enough terrorist attack could and would put them at risk as well.

He sat down, and took the gun from her hands.

"I will open the door when it is time for you to come up. DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR UNTIL I SAY SO. Okay?" She said, her voice shaking with nerves. August noticed this, and put the book down.

He stood up and wrapped his arms around her body, and rested his head on hers.

"It's going to be okay, baby, alright? I'll be fine, you'll be fine, and if it all goes to shit I can get us out. You know that." He felt her nod, and he pressed a kiss to her lips, before she pulled away from him.

"I love you," She said.

"I love you too." He whispered, and watched her walk out of the bunker. He returned to his seat, and continued reading. He actually managed to admit to himself that he was liking Scanlon's book.

Upstairs, Sloane and the IMF team had just arrived and were sitting in her kitchen.

"Why are we here?" Hunt asked.

Grace took a deep breath and began.

"Before I begin, I need all of you to promise you will listen and not act without thinking about what I am going to propose greatly."

They all nodded in agreement.

She took another deep breath. "Okay. August is alive." All of their eyes widened, and Ilsa gasped but no one said anything.

"He is alive, and safe, and him and I would like to know if there's anything he can do to earn all of your guys's trust back. He is willing to do anything."

Everyone looked as Sloane, as her opinion was most important.

Sloane got very serious. "Yes there is. We do have a protocol to follow for rogue agents wanting to gain trust back again, but they have to request it in person, with proof that they are truly serious about it. Where is he currently?" She asked calmly.

"He is here." Grace said. "He came home last night. I would have called you but he had a large burn on his face, and a badly stitched forehead wound so I was more preoccupied with making sure he got fixed up."

Everyone nodded. They may not like or trust August, but as agents, they understood how important physical health was.

"Understandable. Bring him in, and we'll discuss it." Sloane said, and gave Grace a comforting smile, which let Grace know she wasn't going to pull any stunts.

Grace rushed down and got August, and headed back up. Grace saw Ethan's eyes darken in anger almost immediately upon August entering the kitchen.

August took a deep breath, ad began to speak. "I understand that you all probably hate me, and are angry at me, but I need your guys's help. I will do anything and everything to gain your trust back." He said, in a quiet tone of voice August had never used before.

Sloane was the first one to speak to him. "Walker, we are willing to help you, but you must do everything you are told. It's going to be a long few months."

August nodded. "I know. I'm already working to gain back Grace's trust, and she's helping me to be a better person, and as I said before, I am willing to do anything to gain that trust."

Ethan, Ilsa, Benji and Luther looked at each other, before they turned to August. "We'll help you too. I believe that everyone's capable of change, so we'll give you a chance," Ethan said. "But only one."

August nodded. "I understand." He looked up into Ethan's eyes. "Thank you." Ethan gave him a small smile.

They began to talk about what needed to be done, and how Grace was helping him. A few hours later, Ethan and Ilsa were getting ready to leave. Just before the headed to the door, Grace stopped them.

"I received a package from Julia this morning, and this was in it. She's back here, and she's safe." She said in a low voice to him.

Ethan smiled, and gave her a hug. "Thank you, Grace. If you happen to talk to her, let her know that I hope she's doing okay, and to stay safe. I appreciate you being able to make sure that she is always safe."

Grace smiled, and nodded. "She's my sister, and you're still my brother, wether or not you and Julia are together. It's my job," She said.

Ethan smiled, and gave her another hug, before Ilsa walked in from using the bathroom, and the trio said their goodbyes, before the door closed behind Ethan and Ilsa.

Grace ran up the stairs into her office and grabbed the letter. She headed back down to the living room, where she found Auggie reading. She took a seat next to him, making August look up.

"What's that?" August asked, and pointed to the paper in her hand.

"It's the letter that you gave to Julia to give to me, I got it in the mail this morning."

He put the book down, and turned towards her, his features portraying anxiety.

"And, um, what did you think?" He asked, nervously.

Grace smiled and looked at him.

"It made me cry. I know now all you care about was making the world a better place, but you were going about it the wrong way. You knew Julia would be there, but you wanted to make sure she was safe, all because she was my sister. It made me fall more in love with you," She said, tears coming to her eyes as she maintained eye contact with August.

August smiled, and reached a hand out for hers. Grace let him take it, and she ran her thumb on the back of his hand.

"All I ever want to do for you is to make sure you are safe, and you are happy." August whispered, and looked down to his lap, where Scanlon's book was laying.

"Auggie, I know. But I don't need you being taken away from me for the world to change. I read that manifesto, and yes, in certain situations, you must struggle before you succeed. But not the way you and Lane wanted to do it, honey." Grace said, quietly.

"I know, and I'm sorry," August whispered, as tears started to fall from his eyes. Grace immediately looked up at the tone of his voice. Noticing his tears falling, she let the letter fall to the ground, and wrapped her arms around August, who sobbed into her shoulder.

"Auggie, shhhh, calm down," She said, as August's tears became louder and closer together. She ran her hands up and down his back, and whispered in his ear how much she loved him. a few minutes later, his tears started to subside.

Grace looked down, and saw his tired eyes begin to flutter closed. She sat up and lifted his head.

"Hey, hey, hey, you can't sleep yet," She began, brushing a few curls off of his forehead bandage. He groaned slightly, but opened his eyes. "I have to change your bandage on your head, and we need to put some more creme on your burn," She said, and helped August up.

He grumpily walked to the kitchen, and sat on a stool. Grace watched him as she gathered her tools, and laughed to herself about how child like he can become when he is tired.

She quickly took off the bandage, and looked at his stitches,

"They're healing, just slowly. They shouldn't leave too big of a scar, if a scar at all," She said. August nodded, too tired from todays events to talk.

She replaced the bandage and moved on to his burn. It was still noticeable what had happened, but it was healing. She gently lathered on the burn creme, and took a photo of his burn with her phone, in order to track it.

"Okay, baby, all done." She whispered to him. "You head up and go to bed, I'm going to put this away and let Kal out for a pee, and then I'll join you, okay?"

August smiled at her, and stood up. He wrapped his arms around her, and pressed a kiss into her hair. "Thank you, my love. I love you so much." He whispered into her ear.

Grace giggled and gave him a kiss on his lips. "I love you too, Snuffles," She replied, and used his nickname.

He gave her one last hug and kiss, and walked over to the stairs.

Grace began to clean up her medical supplies, and let Kal out for a pee. She walked into the living room, and saw the letter laying on the ground. She picked it up, placed it on the table. She then pulled out her phone and made a reminder to call her mom to talk to Julia and let her know what was happening and why she hasn't answered her lately.

She let the Akita back in the house, who went to his water bowl for a drink before heading up to the bedroom, where his dad was.

Grace made sure all the doors and windows were locked, and the alarm was armed, before she followed her boys.

"Kal! Leave Daddy alone!" Grace whisper yelled upon entering the bedroom, and seeing Kal nudging August with his nose for pets. Kal huffed at her, but then stalked over to his bed, immediately settling down.

Grace changed into her pyjamas, which consisted of one of August's shirts, and a pair of spandex shorts, before snuggling into bed with August.

She quickly fell asleep, and stayed that way until she was awoken at 5:30am by August shooting up from where he was laying. She rolled over and saw his shoulders shaking, his large hands covering his face. She shot up, and crawled so she was kneeling in front of him in the bed. She pulled his head from his hands, which forced him to reveal that he was crying and hyperventilating.

"What's wrong?" Grace said. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. She pressed a kiss to his forehead before running to the bathroom to get him a cup of water. She returned to his side, and placed the water down. He had a hand on his chest, and was hyperventilating to the point where Grace knew he couldn't breathe. She reached into his bedside drawer and grabber his 'bcalm' inhaler.

She bought him this inhaler after a particularly rough day at work, a few months previous.

He had come inside the house, and immediately walked up to where Grace was in the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around her, and began to breathe quickly. Grace, thinking he was just tired, gave him a hug, and continued to work on dinner when he released her. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, and followed Kal into the living room.

A few minutes later, as Grace was chopping up vegetables, Kal came running into the kitchen and began to bark and jerk his head towards the living room, before he ran back to August. Grace knew something was wrong, and followed him. She found August bent over on the couch, shaking, and his head in between his knees. Kal was nudging him, and attempting to get his face up unsuccessfully. Grace dropped to her knees in front of him, and lifted his head.

He looked up at her with pure fear in his eyes. His hands were on his chest, crumpled in his shirt. Grace immediately recognized what was wrong, and tried to calm him down.

'Baby, I need you to listen to me. You're okay, you're safe. Breathe with me." She said, and began to breathe calming breaths with him. "In through your nose, out through your mouth."

They did that for a few moments, but his breathing barely calmed. She held her finger up in front of his mouth. "Pretend you're blowing out a candle, small, deep breaths."

August did as he was told, and his breath quickly slowed, and returned to normal.

Grace knew then that he had an anxiety disorder, but he had never gone to a doctor for it, and likely never would. She opted to educate herself on ways to help him, instead of forcing him into a situation where he wouldn't be comfortable.

She placed the inhaler up to his lips, and instructed him to breathe in. She removed the inhaler to allow him to exhale, before returning it to his lips. After 6-7 breaths, he was calm, and rested his head into Grace's neck.

"Here," Grace said. August lifted his head at her voice, and opened his mouth to drink from the cup that was presented at his mouth. He drank half the glass, before he wrapped his arms around his wife's waist.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Grace said in a quiet voice.

August took a few breaths, but began to explain. "I-I dreamed that Ethan didn't stop me in Kashmir, and Julia died. I was sent to prison. You visited me and told me how much you hated me, and wished you never married me. It scared me so much," He said, shakily.

"Shhh. It's okay. I'm here, I love you and you're going to be okay. You're safe." Grace said. She felt Kal's wet nose poking at her leg, and she looked at the dog. He had anxiety written all over his face, and knew he was scared for his dad.

Grace moved out of the way, and allowed Kal to climb up and put his large body where Graces once was. He rested his head on August's shoulder, and Grace put her hand on the back of his neck. August wrapped his arms around Kal a few moments later.

"Hey, buddy, daddy's okay." August whispered to the dog. Kal made a little whimper, but didn't move. After Kal was satisfied his dad was okay, he moved off, and settled his large body at the end of the bed. Grace laid down, and motioned for August to do the same. She wrapped her small body around his larger one, and they drifted off the sleep not long after.

Grace woke up before August the next morning, and allowed him to stay asleep. She walked into the bathroom and began to run him a bath. He was usually very clingy after an attack that bad, and she wanted him to feel calm, the way he calms her down.

She put a few drops of Lavender essential oil into the water, and Lavender scented bubble bath as well. Once it was full, she turned off the tap. She placed some fluffy towels on her vanity, and made her way to the closet. She grabbed sweats and a t shirt, as well as his superman boxers that he loved. Those were placed on top of his towels. She grabbed her laptop, so he could watch Netflix while he was in there.

Once everything was ready, she made her way back to her sleeping husband in the bed.

She knelt down beside him and began to run her fingers through his hair, gently coaxing him awake. "Auggie baby, wake up," She whispered. He groaned, but opened his eyes. Once his eyes landed on hers, his mouth molded into a smile.

"Good morning," He said, groggily. He reached out a hand and placed it on the side of her face, and he rubbed his thumb back and forth.

Grace leaned into his touch. "I ran a bath for you, follow me." She said. August smiled and got out of bed to follow his wife into the bathroom.

"It smells lovely, baby girl, thank you." He said, as soon as he entered the bathroom. Grace smiled, and gave him a small kiss on the lips.

"I have Netflix queued up on my laptop. I'll make us breakfast, and then I'll join you, okay?" She whispered in his ear. August nuzzled into her neck, and pressed a few kisses there, which made Grace smile. She missed his touch so much.

"Mmmm, sounds good." He whispered into her neck, which caused a shiver to run up and down her back.

She left him to get in the tub, and ventured down stairs. She made a quick breakfast of Eggo waffles, syrup and cold water bottles for the both of them. She made her way back up stairs, and found August settling into the tub.

Grace peeled off her clothes, knowing full well August was admiring her, which she loved. She got into the tub, settling herself in between his legs, her back pressed to his chest. She lifted the plank of wood she used to watch Netflix in the tub, and placed her laptop, and their food on it.

"What do you wanna watch?" She asked him, as she signed into Netflix.

"Mm, New Girl," He said quietly, and he ran a hand up and down her side, admiring his beautiful wife.

She put New Girl on, and settled back against August. He rested his chin on her shoulder, and began to pepper kisses on her neck. Grace moaned, and leaned back into his touch. Her hands ran up and down his thighs that had her body encased in his. August hit a particular spot that he knew would drive Grace crazy. She arched her back, and moaned out loudly. August felt himself begin to lose control, and removed his mouth from her.

"Why'd you stop?" Grace groaned out. "I was liking that,"

He chuckled. "I want you to trust me fully before we're intimate again. I don't want to make you feel like I'm being selfish."

Grace turned her head to look at him. "You won't baby. I love you, and miss you." She whispered.

August began to move his hands to her stomach. He immediately felt her body react to his, and that encouraged him to keep going. He removed his hands for a moment, in order to move the wood that had their food and laptop on it, to the ground where it couldn't be harmed.  

Grace turned around in his arms, and swung her right and then her left over his legs, so she was straddling him. She pressed their foreheads together, and moaned at the feeling of Augusts hands exploring her body. It had only been a week since the last time they made love, but somehow it felt like it had been a lifetime. Grace brushed her lips against his, and felt his hand slow to a stop. He reached up and enveloped her lips in a loving kiss. Her hands moved from his chest to his jaw.

His tongue swiped on her bottom lip, and she immediately allowed him to deepen the kiss. His right hand moved from her lower back, over her hip, her thigh, and then in between her legs, and Grace allowed her self to be lost in the pleasure.

For many minutes, time seemed to stop for the couple. Inside their little bubble, no one could harm them. No ethics reading needed to be done, no trust needed to be gained, and Kashmir never happened. All they felt was love, and passion.

As Grace rested her head on August's chest, she felt his heartbeat slowly return to normal. August had his right hand rubbing her back, and his left playing with her hair. She sighed in content, and tilted her head up at August. He smiled town at her, and gave her a kiss.

"That was amazing," August said. He noticed pure happiness on his wife's face. "I love you so much, I can't even believe it," He said, a stray tear falling from his welled up eyes. Grace lifted a hand and gently wiped it, being careful not to hit his burn area.

"I love you too. You've amazed me with how far you've come, even in just two days. I'm so proud of you, baby." She whispered to him. She noticed the tears escaping his eyes, and she knew that he was happy to hear her say that. That she was proud of him, that she loved him. Words he never heard from his parents.

She sat up and wrapped him up in her arms. "I'm proud of you. You make me proud to be your wife as every day goes by. You're so worthy of all my love. You're doing amazing," She whispered, tears came to her eyes, and she praised him over and over, meaning every word.

"I make you proud?" He whispered, clearly not believing her.

"Everyday angel. Marrying you was the best decision of my life." She said. Instantly, his sobs intensified, and his arms squeezed her closer.

She knew he needed to hear every word of praise she could give him, that he needed every kiss, hug, touch, and he needed her.

He may not be the perfect citizen, but Grace would be damned if she couldn't admit that he was on his way. And she would protect him, and guide him, until he didn't need it anymore. When that time came, she would stick by him, and love him.

[republicstandard]

A Brief Exploration Of “Fat Shaming” in Hellenic Culture

Touched by Graecophiles

I remember studying ancient Greece, though only vaguely, in several different lessons in school. We learnt about the Greek pantheon, the architecture, the philosophers, the technological innovations and my personal favourite: the warrior state, Sparta. It turns out though that in recent years we have discovered through observation of the evidence that there was so much more to them than that that we should all learn from: they were tolerant, multicultural, pacifist, kind and yes, even sexually promiscuous!

Or were they? And, if so who cares?

I’ll tell you who cares: the left. In recent years, I have noticed an increasing amount of commentary on Hellenic culture coming out of neo-Marxist magazines which has been echoed in conversations I have had with liberals during this time. Ancient Athens has become a liberal shrine, a shining star of sleaziness within the vast sky of chivalry, nobility, piety and valour that is recorded history.

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I call this new phenomenon Graecophilia.

It is, prima facie, no surprise to see why a cultural Marxist would become a Graecophile. Athens was indeed the first society to tolerate, encourage and even institutionalize homosexuality in the form of paedophilia, translated as “boy love”. Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong and the Guardian have since miraculously discovered bisexual Neanderthals; perhaps it is only a matter of time. The nudity, the aristocratic alcoholism and the hedonistic decadence of the upper classes within ancient Athens contemporary to its brightest intellectual and political achievements (which we will touch on later) have ignited within lefties a feeling of the best of both worlds: seemingly being conservative and liberal at the same time; simultaneously, in their eyes, having permission to admire tradition, as long as the tradition is sufficiently degenerative and continue being perverts with a clear conscience.

Please take a (brief) look at this article, entitled “Classics for the people – why we should all learn from the ancient Greeks” from the Guardian.

The Guardian, amongst others “news outlets” I will refrain from directly scrutinising due to wanting to write an article, not a book, have begun to print these articles lauding the Ancient Greek culture as something we “can all learn from” on a regular basis. Here’s just one more example, entitled “Laid bare: the sex life of the ancient Greeks in all its physical glory” to cringe over before we get stuck in.

Eros, the god of love and the great loosener of limbs, was many things: irresistible, tender, beautiful, excruciating, maddening, merciless and bittersweet. There was no position, no touch, no predilection too outre to pay homage to him. From the affectionate embrace to group sex, love came in many forms. "The Greeks were anything but prudes," said Nicholaos Stampolidis, director of the Museum of Cycladic Art, "Theirs was a society of great tolerance and lack of guilt."

The above articles from The Guardian point at ancient Greek culture, and state that “classics should be enjoyed by everyone, not just the privileged few.” If you can stomach the above saccharine swill, you’ll gather exactly what I’m talking about when I outline the problem of Graecophilia. According to the genius that wrote the above article, we could learn a lot from ancient Greece, as they

“often freely intermarried with other peoples; they had no sense of ethnic inequality that was biologically determined, since the concepts of distinct world “races” had not been invented.”

I think the term she was looking for was “invaded”, not “intermarried with”, but who am I, a scholar of Greek history, to disagree with Edith Hall and her ability to pervert the evidence to get her liberal readers drooling. Forget that Greece, as every other principality in history has, violently fought off foreigners in defence of their own culture, probably most famously in the Battle of Thermopylae, an effort which was ultimately unsuccessful, as the population of Helots (foreign subjugated peasants) became unsustainable and resulted in an uprising that collapsed Sparta. Here’s another gem from the article:

“They tolerated and even welcomed imported foreign gods.”

Oh yes, of course, the “cultural tolerance” card. Forget that the very reason that the philosopher Socrates was sentenced to death was his “belief in strange Gods” as can be read about in The Trial of Socrates, either by Xenophon or Plato. I thought Edith Hall, the woman who wrote this article, was all for reading the classics? So much for that… In summary, the above articles, as just a small sample of many, highlight this slippery slope of reverence for a principality that was in actuality drowned eventually by its multiculturalism, gluttony, lust diversity and indiscipline. We risk heading down a route of reverence for a culture which in of itself, whilst responsible for a number of intellectual achievements, is not in any sense a model society or indeed one we can learn very much from unless we, as I will later outline, adopt all of its philosophy as one cohesive entity rather than cherry pick. As a traditionalist, it does pain me to say it, but not all the ways of the past should again be proudly trodden as they once were, and certainly not without careful study and understanding. The issue goes far beyond the microscopic one of “fat shaming” that we will discuss now, but ties into the much broader issue of an emergence of Graecophilic liberals who, with little education in the classics, wish to praise Athens as a kind of ancient liberal microcosm.

What about physical fitness? Surely if Edith Hall’s studious reporting is anything to go by the Greeks were just as tolerant of the overweight as they were of everything else, and good on them for doing so! Unfortunately for Edith, this is not the case and the Greeks were big into what we know now to be fat shaming.

“Fat shaming”: A brief fatground and preamble

For those who are fortunate enough not to have come across the term before, I’ll provide a brief extract from the Wikipedia page on “Anti-fat bias”:

Anti-fat bias refers to the prejudicial assumption of personality characteristics based on an assessment of a person as being overweight or obese. It is also known as "fat shaming." Anti-fat bias leads people to associate individuals who are overweight or obese with negative personality traits such as "lazy", "gluttonous", "stupid", "smelly", "slow", or "unmotivated." This bias is not restricted to clinically obese individuals, but also encompasses those whose body shape is in some way found unacceptable according to society's modern standards (although still within the normal or overweight BMI range).

Well, what do you know? A fat person who is lazy? Certainly not. All the fat people I know are high-intensity career people who even fit in time after work to go for a jog, raise a family and cook a healthy, moderately sized evening meal. And I can’t for one moment imagine why people would draw a line between being fat and gluttony. How ridiculous.

Although I knew it existed, I generally laughed off the idea of “fat shaming” as another moronic, hipster idea of such triviality that it would soon fade into the liberal backwater and be forgotten about by the socialist goldfish brains. However, I’ve seen the idea or, if you can call it a movement, gradually start to expand in size like the women that read The Independent. Being exposed to the this video and the support it received for glorifying obesity was the final straw for me to write an article on this issue.

What shocked and angered me even more than a) The idea that this could be considered poetry, and b) Just how little the leviathan on the video realised it was hurting itself and setting a dangerous example for others was the lack of any criticism within the comments section. There seemed to be no one coming to aid of common sense or possessing an iota of independent thought; the comment section was quite simply a chromosomal wasteland. I knew I had to write a rebuttal and the issue of Graecophilia was also playing on my mind, so I thought I would amalgamate the two ideas into an unlikely combined article.

Already fairly well versed in the topics involved, I still knew I had to read hard if I was going to sufficiently rebut the movements: liberal Graecophilia and anti-“fat shaming” that had been imposed upon me. I picked up a copy of The Republic by Plato, some texts referencing Lycurgus, Nicomachean Ethics by Aristotle and read some supporting texts I could find on the web, including looking in depth at some important studies on obesity, all of which I hope are sufficiently referenced throughout for further reading.

I’ll first start off my rebuttal by clearly stating my argumentative position which is that firstly, it is intellectually degenerative to in of itself condemn “fat shaming” but doubly that to do so while attesting that ancient Greece is something we should all learn from, and that “all, not just the privileged few” should study the Greek classics is hypocritical and is a cherry picking of the elements within Greek society deemed worthy of learning from; and that of course to simultaneously venerate and criticise a culture is impossible. I will then finally briefly outline why cherry picking cultural elements does not work and inevitably leads to the adopter’s destruction. In the next passage I’m going to be providing mainly a body of information and evidence in support of the afore-stated logical discourse, in that Greek society was indeed “fat shaming”. Greek culture being anti-“fat shaming”: Fat chance!

Homeric Era and Prehistoric Greece:

Let us begin with the element of a society that one it holds most dear: its religion. Greek religion belonged/belongs to the proto Indo-European family of religious traditions, along with Celtic, Slavic, Iberian and Norse paganism as well as Hinduism. Gods were, of course, as is the way in more mainstream religions such as Christianity, idealized role models who served as the perfect standard towards which the common folk should strive. We know of the Greek’s religion through many pieces of evidence both archaeological and textual, but probably the best collection of texts in reference to the Gods are Theogeny, Works and Days by Hesiod and The Illiad and the Odyssey by Homer.

Within the Greek mythos was the demi-God Heracles, son of Zeus and Alcmene, a mortal woman. Heracles was venerated in every Greek city state, predominantly Sparta, where he was considered to be the ancestor of all Spartan people and the reason for their exceptional strength. I need not go into detail about the kind of figure that Heracles was, as you the reader will already surely be aware, but what I will state is that Heracles was not only respected for his strength, but worshipped, especially also in Thebes where he was said to have been in born.

Heracles was not the only “ripped” figure in Greek mythology who was a role model for the people. Pretty much all of the Gods and indeed Goddesses possessed awesome physiques. Now think for a moment, if they were tolerant of obesity and slothfulness, wouldn’t there be at least one fat God or a story about the twelve main courses of Hercules rather than a tale of tremendous physical endurance?

Spartan Society and Lycurgus’s Constitution

Particularly in Sparta, men and women alike would engage in intense exercise regardless of their prospective or future occupational pursuit. It was required of all young men to undergo physical training in a school know as the Agoge from age 7, in aid of cultivating physical virtues in connection with their believed sportive ancestry. The Spartans also advocated a eugenics program to weed out the lazy and unfit in honour of their “tolerance” towards the morbidly obese. Still feel like learning from the classics, Edith?

To confirm my point with evidence, in the 1st and 2nd centuries AD, the Greek Plutarch visited Sparta to collect since extinct sources which were significantly older to reconstruct a history of the philosophies of the Spartan people from 900BC to the erosion of Sparta in the 3rd century BC. He was particularly interested in the Spartan legal institution, brought in by the philosopher Lycurgus. In his biographical account Sayings of the Spartans, Plutarch writes:

Lycurgus, the lawgiver, wishing to recall the citizens from the mode of living then existent, and to lead them to a more sober and temperate order of life, and to render them good and honorable men (for they were living a soft life). He reared two puppies of the same litter; and one he accustomed to dainty food, and allowed it to stay in the house; the other he took afield and trained in hunting. Later he brought them into the public assembly and put down some bones and dainty food and let loose a hare. Each of the dogs made for that to which it was accustomed, and, when the one of them had overpowered the hare, he said, "You see, fellow-citizens, that these dogs belong to the same stock, but by virtue of the discipline to which they have been subjected they have turned out utterly different from each other, and you also see that training is more effective than nature for good." But some say that he did not bring in dogs which were of the same stock, but that one was of the breed of house dogs and the other of hunting dogs; then he trained the one of inferior stock for hunting, and the one of better stock he accustomed to dainty food. And afterwards, as each made for that to which it had become accustomed, he made it clear how much instruction contributes for better or worse, saying, "So also in our case, fellow-citizens, noble birth, so admired of the multitude, and our being descended from Heracles does not bestow any advantage, unless we do the sort of things for which he was manifestly the most glorious and most noble of all mankind, and unless we practice and learn what is good our whole life long."

So, in essence, what it was that Lycurgus was trying to teach was that environmental conditioning was important for developing character, and that it is possible for a person of poor initial potential to perform better than a person with a high potential given the adequate discipline and training. In this example, the unconditioned, IE the fat, are the dogs who were given “dainty food” which turned out poorly for them when they had to catch a hare, i.e., do something useful!

The Socratic School: Socrates, Xenophon, Aristotle and Plato.

Though of course of great interest to those who love to learn about European history and culture, liberals will likely turn their nose up at the examples I have used so far, so let us turn to something a little more “high brow” and look at the Socratic school of philosophy. I think this was more of what Edith of the Guardian had in mind.

An interesting fact about Socrates, and one that people often forget to mention, is that Socrates was a military veteran. Not only well versed and trained in matters of the mind, he was a well conditioned soldier in his youth and fought in at least three conflicts during the Peloponnesian War between the state of Athens and its allies and the forces of Sparta. Socrates made several points throughout the Socratic dialogues alluding to the importance of physical fitness not merely to personal excellence but to the flourishing of the state. I think the best one can be found in Plato’s The Republic, a book discussing the ideal state wherein an entire chapter is dedicated to the importance of physical exercise in a citizen’s excellence and in turn a flourishing society. I will leave you the reader to go and enjoy The Republic in your own time and briefly touch upon a passage from Memorabilia by Xenophon, a student of Socrates. In the book, Socrates is having a discussion with another one of his students, Epigenes, and notices that Epigenes is in poor condition for a young man, starting the following dialogue:

Socrates: You look as if you need exercise, Epigenes. Epigenes: Well, I’m not an athlete, Socrates. Socrates: …Why, many, thanks to their bad condition, lose their life in the perils of war or save it disgracefully: many, just for this same cause, are taken prisoners, and then either pass the rest of their days, perhaps, in slavery of the hardest kind, or, after meeting with cruel sufferings and paying, sometimes, more than they have, live on, destitute and in misery. Many, again, by their bodily weakness earn infamy, being thought cowards. Or do you despise these, the rewards of bad condition, and think that you can easily endure such things? And yet I suppose that what has to be borne by anyone who takes care to keep his body in good condition is far lighter and far pleasanter than these things. Or is it that you think bad condition healthier and generally more serviceable than good, or do you despise the effects of good condition? And yet the results of physical fitness are the direct opposite of those that follow from unfitness. The fit are healthy and strong; and many, as a consequence, save themselves decorously on the battle-field and escape all the dangers of war; many help friends and do good to their country and for this cause earn gratitude; get great glory and gain very high honors, and for this cause live henceforth a pleasanter and better life, and leave to their children better means of winning a livelihood. I tell you, because military training is not publicly recognized by the state, you must not make that an excuse for being a whit less careful in attending to it yourself. For you may rest assured that there is no kind of struggle, apart from war, and no undertaking in which you will be worse off by keeping your body in better fettle. For in everything that men do the body is useful; and in all uses of the body it is of great importance to be in as high a state of physical efficiency as possible. Why, even in the process of thinking, in which the use of the body seems to be reduced to a minimum, it is matter of common knowledge that grave mistakes may often be traced to bad health. And because the body is in a bad condition, loss of memory, depression, discontent, insanity often assail the mind so violently as to drive whatever knowledge it contains clean out of it. But a sound and healthy body is a strong protection to a man, and at least there is no danger then of such a calamity happening to him through physical weakness: on the contrary, it is likely that his sound condition will serve to produce effects the opposite of those that arise from bad condition. And surely a man of sense would submit to anything to obtain the effects that are the opposite of those mentioned in my list. Besides, it is a disgrace to grow old through sheer carelessness before seeing what manner of man you may become by developing your bodily strength and beauty to their highest limit. But you cannot see that, if you are careless; for it will not come of its own accord.

As the preceding passage outlines, physical proficiency was, and I believe for good reason, considered to be an essential element of self-mastery irrespective of the occupation, age or intention of the person exercising and it was a disservice to oneself to be in poor physical condition. Those who were in good physical fitness were of more use to their family, friends and the state and Socrates believed (correctly, as I will explain later) that a person with suboptimal physical fitness is also inevitably intellectually suboptimal. If Socrates was truly as intelligent as we can from inference assume, and if we indeed “should all learn the classics” then it would be unwise not to follow the advice of such a decorated thinker and military veteran in ignoring, ipso facto, the leftist objection to fat shaming. Either that, or we ought to disavow the Greek culture altogether.

Ok, enough with references to these high-brow authors, how do we know that they were representative of the people? The general masses may have thought differently, and been more progressive. I hardly think so. To briefly summarise the form of occupation for 90% of citizens -excluding women, children and the small minority of pensioners- was in manual labour. It can be surmised that the majority of individuals worked in agriculture with others working in mining, sculpture, craftwork and the military and were by extension in good physical condition if not underweight. Only a small minority of jobs, often up at the top of the class ladder, were sedentary enough for it to even be possible for a person to become fat even if they wanted to. It must be then stated that fat statesmen and judges were certainly not a rarity though, but were often the subject of mocking in Greek comedies and also the world’s oldest joke book, Philogelos. I suppose you could call that “institutionalized fat shaming”.

Some basic science behind the benefits of physical fitness and “fat shaming.”

Now we have briefly explored fat shaming in ancient Greece, and we have learnt that the heffalumps over at the Guardian are the ones who think there is so much to learn from ancient Greece, let us examine Socrates’ main argument alongside some contemporary studies and see if they still stand (fat pun not intended):

Socrates: … it is matter of common knowledge that grave mistakes may often be traced to bad health. And because the body is in a bad condition, loss of memory, depression, discontent, insanity often assail the mind so violently as to drive whatever knowledge it contains clean out of it.

Socrates drew a parallel between bad health and a poor intellect, as does this study from the University of Gothenburg, Sweden. from the University of Gothenburg, Sweden:

The study, which including 1.2 million young adults, noted an increase in cognitive performance amongst the group who regularly exercised. I am not a biologist, but I would hypothesis that this link is likely as a result of a) An increase in the release of stimulating endorphins and b) the ability to supply the brain with adequate oxygen due to better cardiovascular fitness.

This study from Allergan Inc., a gastric band company, also supports Socrates’ argument. According to the study, obesity has a hindering effect on the US economy to the tune of $73.1 billion per year as a result of absenteeism.

Just doing a small amount of cursory research and applying common sense, it is easy to determine that Socrates was right: fat people are a drain on the economy, they have lower IQs than people who exercise, have a higher rate of unemployment in the West (likely as a result of the only obese people in the third world being drug barons) and are five times more likely to be diagnosed with depression. No doubt though that as usual the left will make up unscientific excuses for all of these phenomena.

They can come up with all the excuses they want, but this article by Milo Yiannopolous, entitled “Science proves it: Fat-shaming works” has elegantly checkmated them all:

"[I]f people feel shit about themselves, they’re more likely to change. A landmark study by obesity experts in 2014 found that a “desire to improve self-worth” was one of the most important motivating factors encouraging people to lose weight. What does this tell us? That encouraging fatties to “love themselves,” as the fat acceptance movement does, is the worst possible message you could send people if you want them to lose weight."

We would all, of course, wish for a society that is as intelligent as possible, so why, then, as the Socrates noticed, should we advocated a society in which the body is malnourished (or “overnourished”) and in turn so is the brain? If we conservatives choose to be derogatory to the very cause of that which left and right alike consider to be negative, IE suboptimal intelligence, then where is the issue? Where is the logic in sparing an individual’s feelings in exchange for a long term illness? Not telling an overweight person they are doing themselves harm is akin to encouraging someone not telling a to go and get their cough checked out. Though at least for most smokers this will only be precaution, whilst a fat person risks death at every moment.

I hope you can take away a number of facts, both historical and scientific, with you to wage war against cellulite and liberal Graecohiles. As we have determined, the Greeks did not think very highly of obesity at all, and were not as tolerant as Edith Hall from The Guardian would like to deceive you into believing.

We’ve also taught another valuable lesson: you cannot have your cake and eat it too. Either “the classics are for all to learn from” or they’re not. Edith may as well write an article now entitled “Greeks were bigots; shove your classics up your arse”.

It is, of course, intellectually bankrupt to unquestionably revere, accept or even revile aspects of a culture without an understanding of the cultural and political diaspora that surrounds them and ergo the reasons why such a custom was an aspect of the culture in the first place. This is the dangerous route down which students of Greek history are beginning to descend down as fragments of culture ought not to be analysed without a perception of the whole. The irony is that it is more often than not conservatives who are accused of employing a “pick and choose” mentality on issues such as immigration or Islam, in which we are “picking on specific cases”. Well, perhaps it is time that the left pick and choose. Pick and choose what your stance is on Hellenic culture! As conservatives, we would do will to carefully study and value the wisdom bestowed upon us by those who came before, as long as we are firstly always aware of the context within which behaviours existed and hence gain a full understanding of a philosophy within is context, and even more importantly remain vigilant in adopting elements of culture independently of the context within which they originated as this inevitably results in incompatibility and cultural dissonance, like trying to run a new piece of software on a computer that’s hardware was never built to run it in the first place.

We need to dispel the idea that we can cherry pick different aspects of different cultures and ideas and blend them together to create an amazing modern concoction of philosophy. Well, by that logic, the city of London should be a paradise by now, should it not? Oh dear.

This issue goes far deeper than the regressive left’s new-found and hypocritical reverence of Hellenic culture, despite their rejection of aspects of this culture such as fat shaming where it feels convenient, this issue permeates all current affairs -and in actuality perennial thought- as the concept of cherry picking aspects of a culture is dangerously wide-spread.

A subject for another day, I will briefly touch upon the example of democracy in order to prove my point: there are very few people in the modern West that would disagree with the idea of democracy, but in actuality it is plain to see that democracy often does not adequately function as an electoral system because it was taken out of its original context: ancient Athenian morality and theology. Within this context, democracy functioned more efficiently due to the moral education of Athenian citizens and the theological values imbued within the system that made it possible for the masses to make objectively “correct” electoral decisions. Democracy has been taken out of this context and implemented into an intellectually and morally bankrupt society and hence cannot function efficiently.

If you can’t accept Greek philosophy on fat shaming, you quite simply can’t praise Athens for its tolerance of homosexuality, its politics or its theology, because they belong within the same self-contained cultural Jenga tower. You take one piece out, the entire thing falls apart into nonsense. It is nigh on impossible to symbiose ideas and mannerisms from different geopolitical, religious and cultural contexts without producing psychological dissonance, as globalisation has taught us and in turn informed us of the pattern generally. Ergo, to take, for example, some Athenian ideas irrespective of their context would be doomed to failure; in many ways, ironically, this was one of the things which caused Athens’ eventual downfall!

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I will leave with this final remark, I believed fittingly, from the Greek poet Hesiod’s Works and Days:

“I mean you well, Perses, you great idiot, and I will tell you. Look, badness is easy to have; you can take it by handfuls without effort. The road that way is smooth and starts here beside you. But between us and virtue the immortals have put what will make us sweat. The road to virtue is long and goes steep up hill, hard climbing at first, but the last of it, when you get to the summit (if you get there) is easy going after the hard part.”

Do not ever be afraid of causing offense, ,making jokes or living your life on the side of truth. Tell a person that they are doing harm to themselves with a clear conscience as long as you do it for the right reason: the encouragement of health and wellbeing.

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