Self-Delusion As Positive Value

 

“Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder”. 

 

A remarkable trait of Anglo-Saxon societies is a sort of human right to self-deception, that is being pushed with increasing aggressiveness as these societies become more and more addicted to political correctness. 

There seem to be a consensus according to which things are not what they are, but how you feel they are. This tragic self-delusion aliments itself in the most tragic ways. 

At school, children are asked “what is God for you”, and the class listens to a bunch of little kiddies taught to shape after their own liking the most objective, unchangeable Reality there is. They learn to be confused, and to confuse their peers, at a very young age. When they are adults, they will simply export this mentality to their own adult religious convictions, shaping their own “religion” according to taste. The great season of “I am a Catholic, but… (insert here your own homemade decision)” is about to start. 

Nor does this end in the religious sphere, as nowadays very many already think that one can define himself even ignoring the most elementary reality of their own being; like, say, having a willie. Again, reality will look at them in the face every second of their life, but if they feel they should ignore it, then this reality will have to be ignored by everyone around them; because facts, you see, are extremely intolerant. 

Another manifestation of this collective madness is in the attempted redefinition of concepts like beauty, youth, or intelligence. 

Beauty is a subjective concept only if looked at in a very narrow way, but it is a brutally objective concept when looked at it in its collective manifestation. Faced with photos of a young Monica Bellucci, most men will put her in the “extremely beautiful” category. The same men will, if tested in the same way, call your usual obese young woman painfully carrying around her immense backside in ways my female readers really don’t want to hear. 

There’s nothing “subjective” in this. “Feelings” are neither here nor there. To say to the obese girl she is “wonderful as she is” is not only an insult to every sane man’s intelligence; it is also a positive encouragement to her to keep slowly killing herself, and to march toward a premature death of heart failure or diabetes. Ignoring reality is, rather often, very dangerous, be it at a red light or on the scale. 

The same happens with the matter or winning and losing. When I was a child, expressions like “everyone has won” after, say, a race would have sounded not only stupid, but emasculating. 

I have not won; but boy, I have given everything I had! In that I already saw in me, as a child, the budding man: learning to win and to lose, to try and to fail, to congratulate the winner, to admire those who could do better and to test my limits, as a boy should. It wasn’t an “injustice” that some were born innately more able than I was, not more than it would have been considered an “injustice” that some girls in the class were very beautiful, and others very ugly. Reality was accepted for what it was. No one ever asked me how I feel about God; actually I was told what I needed to know about him; and no one ever told me I had also won after I had lost. Facts are facts. To deny them is to pave the way for the madhouse. 

 Nowadays, born men – which is clearly seen at the rather unmistakeable apparatus they carry – demand to be allowed in the girls’ toilets; and they demand it as part of tangible and universal acceptance of the fact that they feel women, therefore they are it. 

Two or three generations ago, it would have been the madhouse. 

Today, even the Prime Minister is on the side of perverted and lunatics. 

Mundabor 

Posted on May 20, 2014, in Catholicism, Conservative Catholicism, Traditional Catholicism and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. 7 Comments.

  1. mmmm….I don’t entirely agree with this….some of it is very true but I wouldn’t entirely dismiss beauty being in the eye of the beholder. I do notice that especially as people age their personality becomes ingrained in their face and I tend to find that if I like a person I will see them as pretty whereas someone I don’t much like I see them not pretty.

    I did have to ROFL about the willie though. That’s actually exactly how I explain it to my kids in these days of so much weird propaganda about…if you’ve got one you’re a boy, if you haven’t you’re a girl…end of. I did find it rather amusing to see that written here…it’s not an expression I was expecting to see 😀 There’s something about that word that just inspires giggles.

    • Fine, but in that case your finding that person pretty does not make of her an objectively pretty person; rather, you find this person pleasant, which helps you to better notice her pleasant traits. if this person, though, is old, she will be old; if she is fat, she will be fat, and so on.

      M

  2. The sin of gluttony has vanished. And children learn young that to call someone “fatso” at school is grounds for expulsion. Therefore, look about you and you will see massively obese people everywhere increasingly deluding themselves, because daytime talk shows transmit the new moral code, and that is that they are objectively beautiful. They never are told differently.

    When you look at photos of families from the the 40s and 50s everyone is positively svelte and beautiful. Studies have shown that children who sit down to a meal with their family and do not have a TV in their bedroom are of a more healthy weight than kids who take food to their bedrooms and eat in front of the TV as a matter of routine. See, the breakdown of the family–sin, begets more sin. Perhaps that is a little simplistic, but if a family abandons a routine as healthy as sharing supper together, disaster eventually follows. And why does a family not eat together?–well, the single mother might be too exhausted and depressed to fix a decent meal and the children more or less are depressed too and gorge on starchy, salty processed food while sitting in front of the TV. Or, a hands-off father might not care that junior locks himself in his room eating pizza and drinking sodas and being anti-social. Maybe the father does that too!

    • Exactly right.

      In a sensible family, children eat when they are told, what they are told. And the mothers care for sensible fare.

      In a broken family, it’s fast and caloric: chips, pre-processed food, sweets, the lot.

      Mama, who did not have enough discipline to keep her legs shut, clearly does not have enough to keep a decent shape, too. Couch, ice-cream, more couch, fries, more ice-cream.

      I see here on a regular basis women in their twenties that in the Italy I grew up in would not have dared to get out of the home; but actually they would not have reduced themselves in such a state in the first place.

      M

  3. Mundabor: Ok fair enough, maybe I am getting my concepts fuddled, I don’t know. I certainly agree that there is objective beauty, yes, of course, but I suppose what I am thinking is that the concept of subjective beauty is not entirely wrong either. Have you never met a woman for example who has super-model looks….but on closer inspection turns out to be arrogant and spiteful? I am not advocating denying reality….I can see where that leads…I suppose I am more saying moderation in all things…..or things are not always quite as they seem…a balance between concepts of outer beauty and inner beauty.

    • Yes, life can’t be reduced to numbers and coefficients.
      But facts are facts.
      The spiteful beauty would be still factually beautiful, and if almost everyone considers her haughty she will probably be, factually, haughty.
      Her being objectively beautiful will not make her nice.
      Similarly, being nice doesn’t make one aesthetically beautiful, though it may make one pleasant and a better company than the first.

      We have personal preferences and sensibilities. But we must stop kidding ourselves.

      M

  4. Yes, we had to eat what we were told. And you know what? We enjoyed everything except scalloped potatoes, omelets (too much mixing of ingredients for our jejune palates), and once my mother made kidney stew and we would not touch that. We sat at the table refusing to take one bite. So that was that. We didn’t get dessert that day. We went to bed hungry.

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