Do We Still Love Athletes Like Ancients?

Our love for the professional and victorious athletes continues to follow us all the way from ancient Greek times. And make no mistake, it is not the professionalism, but the glory that we enjoy. People completely alter their appearance and character when attending their favorite sporting event and cheering for their most loved competitor. 

If people gave 1/10th the enthusiasm toward actual problems in our country as they do to football, we'd be in much better shape. But for some reason, people don't want to take on the hard things in life, and so sports provide a literal escape from reality. People can forget for a time. This is both beneficial and destructive when taken to the extreme. 

We all need a break from time to time, but ignoring life can eventually lead to outright delusion. Ancient Rome had this same problem. People ended up caring more about Games than actually running the State. It's one of the reasons the Empire fell.

But the ancient Greeks were more moderate and reasonable with their love of Games. They were indeed important and even religious activities, but they did not constitute the whole or even the daily life of the people and their societies. They were largely part of the religious events of the day or festival, but the winners, especially those of the Olympics, could expect lavish reward, even including a pension. 

Of course, it was nothing like what athletes are given today, salaries that would be considered a ridiculous amount, especially given the fact that millions of Americans live in poverty, and 333 million children worldwide wake up every day in impoverishment. That's more than the entire population of the United States of America.

I do think exceptional athletes, as in ancient times, deserve a place of honor in the State. They go through many years of hard training, sacrifice, pain, injury and dedication so that they can reach the glory that they so desire, for themselves, their team, and their people. They reach status that most other people probably could not, and for their success and service, they deserve recognition and a pension. I do not, however, think that any athlete deserves a salary of 50 million dollars a year, or even in a lifetime.

I also feel that major Games, such as the Olympics, have lost their meaning. The Games were created to honor Zeus, King of all Gods. In short, they are religious and spiritual events that recognize and revere the Higher Powers, and acknowledge our own proper and unique place in life as human beings. But today, the sacredness is literally all gone. In my view, it's been reduced to mere competition of one person trying to outdo the other, and there is no understanding whatsoever of our humanity and the blessed abilities that have been bestowed upon us by the Gods. 

Not only do we pay athletes too much money, but the money and the mortal basically become the gods of the Games. The Olympics are losing their former glory. Viewership of the Olympics dropped by 40% worldwide during the last cycle. Even football, one of America's most loved past times, has experienced a drop in popularity by about 1 million viewers. 

There was a time when people were excited to love and impress Divinity and one another. When something is reduced to the mere rudimentary, the nature of it is to whither. But the Gods never whither or die. Everything about them is eternal and ongoing. That's probably one of the reasons the Greeks centered everything around their Gods. I'm not saying athletes should be forced into Hellenism or any kind of worship. I'm saying that larger meaning, something more than just self, is what will maintain everything, even ourselves.

In the Goodness of the Gods,

I'll see you at the next Herm down the road,

Chris Aldridge.

Why So Many Female Villains In Greek Myth?

Ancient Greece and Greek Myth in modern time tend to get, what I think, is an undeserved bad wrap for all of the female villains that exist within it. It's assumed that because there were a lot of female monsters and criminals, that the ancient Greeks must have hated women or at least distrusted them in some capacity. Well, anyone who has known me for the last few years as a writer, historian and a Hellenist, knows I can give a unique perspective on ancient Greek culture.

First consider that there might have indeed been female criminals and menaces in ancient times. The level of power that women had varied from City to City, but women were not powerless in totality. For example, male bandits or organized criminals probably wouldn't have cared about being led by a female if she had enough money to pay them well. It is not sexism to say that a woman is a woman. I mean, it's certainly not rare to find a woman or a being who is female. Women exist as about half of the population, and sometimes there are actually more females in a species than males. Therefore, there could naturally be women or females who fulfill negative as well as positive roles, and yet, even the negative ones were not universal. In other words, they were not all bad. While the Sphinx of Oedipus might be considered a villain, Sphinxes were also guardians of temples and cemeteries, and considered to be a bridge between human and Divine knowledge. 

It's also not true that men of ancient Greece always occupied admirable or virtuous roles. There were a great number of men and males who were evil. For example, when Odysseus returned home, He found no less than 108 Suitors trying to take His wife and kingdom. He killed all of them, not for simply being Suitors, but for destroying His palace, eating His food, taking everything they could, and doing everything they could get away with. They even plotted to murder Odysseus' own son. These 108 men were certainly no paragons of virtue, but villains. Finally, male monsters in Greek Myth included the Minotaur, the Nemean Lion, the Cretan Bull, and Typhon. 

In conclusion, it may not actually be true that a significant number of Greek villains were female. In fact, given the Suitors alone, there might have been more males than females in actuality. Not to mention ruling kings like Lycaon, Sisyphus, Tantalus, and Salmoneus - and the Gods punished them severely for it. And for the villains who were the opposite sex, it may have had little to do with their sex in and of itself. Additionally, you can't ignore the great number of female Heroes who exist in Greek Myth and Religion either, such as Atalante, Danae, Antigone, Penelope, Hydna, and Nausicca. You wouldn't think you'd have female Heroes in a society that simply hates women.

I'm not saying there was no sexism in ancient times. But I also think that some people today assume way too much about things they couldn't have possibly experienced.

In the Goodness of the Gods,

I'll see you at the next Herm down the road,

Chris Aldridge.

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It's My Fate

When you first start your life as a Hellenist, at least for me personally, you're quick to say you don't believe in fate as a lifelong concept, or that you at least don't believe in it generally speaking. You might think that some things are preordained, just like the ancient Greeks most certainly did, but you generally reject the notion that your life is already planned out. And I've pretty much always believed that pivotal moments are already decided, but what you do with them is of your own will. For example, my lifechanging move to Illinois was fate, but what I do with my life here is my own choice.

But I will also say this. The longer I live, the more and more I think fate plays continuous roles in human life. Perhaps not in all of one's life, but still a significant part. For the simple fact that there are general things I have tried to change or alter the course of for the better part of 40 years, and it just won't happen no matter what I do. Hellenism has certainly changed me for the better, morally and ethically, than I was beforehand, and put a confidence and faith in me that I never had previously, but I can't change the over all structure of who I am. And I've equally noticed that trying to change it only makes things harder or more upset. I eventually wondered if said hardship was because I was essentially trying to fight against the universe.

Nevertheless, I also remember that when I was a child and a teenager, my living situation was a lot worse than it is now, and even if that was my fate at that time, it never interfered with my happiness. I remember being absolutely in love with life and everything about it. The fact that I was very poor and had no real prospects, did not inhibit me in the least. I still loved, still believed I could do anything, and sometimes I did. 

It's also true that many things in my life have not turned out the way I wanted, or the way I had envisioned. The most maddening part is that I don't really know why, and perhaps I'm not supposed to know, but it's still something I carry with me each day. It's even hurtful to an extent, to see men or women no better than you, but who have things you feel you deserved as well. Why, is the question that will drive you insanely angry if you let it. So I eventually found it best to generally stop asking, either to myself or others.

Is fate simply what we call things that are out of our hands? Who knows these things but the Gods? What I do know is that it's possible to live well in one's fate. For example, you might not be rich, but you can be financially comfortable. Your person may not win the election, but you can do your own public works for what you believe in. You may not be as popular as Stephen King, but you can still get your works published and distributed.

But even knowing that there's fate in my life, and always will be, I ultimately don't worry about anything; because I know who my Gods are.

In the Goodness of The Dodekatheon,

I'll see you at the next Herm down the road,

Chris Aldridge.

Was I The Last Man She Kissed?

In 2018, I moved to South Beloit, Illinois, and I met a girl there about my age, by the name of Michelle. I cannot recall exactly how we met, but I can surmise that we had similar interests through things like religion and philosophy, and found one another through social media. I admit that I was sexually attracted to her, but at first it was just a friendship ordeal, which I had no problem with.

The more we talked, the more we liked each other, and one day we decided to meet for lunch. It was one of those things that was a date, but also was not, if that makes sense. We were there to have fun with each other, yet there were no romantic titles or intentions. But in any case, I was delighted to just spend the day with a beautiful girl who was my friend.

The more time we spent together, however, the closer our lips got until we kissed. So it was one of those beautiful things that people write about in poems and love stories. It didn't seem like it would go any further than just an affectionate friendship at most, but nevertheless, I could only find enjoyment in her presence. But I would have never imagined in a million years that it would be the last time I'd ever see her, because she suddenly died later that year. As far as I know, she didn't have any other male friends of the romantic type, so it's possible that I was the last man she ever kissed.

In fact, her death happened so suddenly that I didn't even have time to make preparations to attend the funeral, which I still brood over to this day when I think about it. It was one of those experiences that blows you away, leaving you in shock and disbelief, sometimes even for months or years to come. Whenever I am passing through South Beloit these days, I still drive by the restaurant where we spent our last day together, and simply look at it, not as a painful memory, but as a testament to a truth that I will now explain.

I tell this story sometimes in my speeches on life and living without regrets, because every single day I see people all around me that are letting the clock tick by. They're so consumed by social norms, personal fear, or the delusion that they have plenty of time. Each day is a countdown, every second that goes by, you can never get back. I can still close my eyes and feel her kiss, and it's no longer a romantic feeling, but a wakeup call, that every day is a gift. 

The Gods gave you life for a reason, and the common sense to not waste it. One day Death will come for you. One day Charon will extend his hand for your coin, and it'll be too late. No amount of crying or pleading will turn back the clock. You're not meant to live in fear, you're not meant to micromanage life, and you don't have plenty of time; you're meant to live and live now. 

In the Goodness of the Gods,

I'll see you at the next Herm down the road,

Chris Aldridge.

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How I Know He Went To A Better Place

Many people talk of having stepparents, but I have rarely heard them speak of step-grandparents. But that's how I would categorize it. His name was Jim, and he basically replaced my grandmother's original husband, the biological father of my mother, and thus, my biological grandfather. Nevertheless, Jim was a very unique person in my life, and the life of those around him.

Not only did he stay with and help support my grandmother and her house and property throughout his life, he also treated me very kindly, and he didn't have to. We didn't really have any contact in the late years, as I had gotten married and moved out of State, but when I was a teenager, Jim financially supported me in a great many ways, along with my grandmother.

Had it not been for him, I would have probably been unable to remain enrolled in my martial arts school, which was a big achievement and motivator in my early days. I can also say with absolute certainty that I never went hungry a day in my life while I was at my grandmother's house. Jim would always make sure I was fed, and so would she.

They were also very calm-minded people. They considered themselves to be the utmost civilized. They would not go to parties or do any kind of music or dance. They did not drink hard liquor, beer, or act up in any way. They would not even let their hair, nor mine, become "inappropriate" lengths. So they were modest, greatly sophisticated they were. 

Last spring, Jim died at the age of 74, after a long struggle with deteriorating health and eventually a stroke that resulted in cardiac arrest, leaving my grandmother, who is still alive, to live alone except for the regular visits from my mother. Shortly after his death, I had a dream about Jim that I've never had before or since. He was here in Illinois, in my living room, taking me by the hands, and dancing and smiling. To dream about him for the first time, and seeing him act in a way that he never would have in his previous life, made me realize that he had chosen to deliver a message to me. Wherever he is, I think he's in a much better place.

His death was by no means a blow to me, in the sense that he was someone essential to my life today. I mean, I will certainly always remember and appreciate him, but he also wasn't attached to me. Yet, he had always lived a rather isolated life with no real success, and his passing made me feel sorry for him. But for some reason, he decided to tell me that he was okay, perhaps because he saw me as a son he never had. Or possibly because he knew I'd tell everyone back home; maybe a bit of both. 

Every day and night of your life, don't close your eyes or notice off to the signs and omens that the Gods and other people can send. They are everywhere, and if you know them, can give you immeasurable peace.

In the Goodness of the Gods,

I'll see you at the next Herm down the road,

Chris Aldridge.

Tomb of Cerberus Set To Be 2023 Gem

This year near the historic City of Naples, there came to the surface of an archaeological dig a fascinating tomb of ancient Greek proportions. Like many great finds in history, though, they were not looking for anything ancient, unless you count the outdated water system that the Municipality of Giugliano had to undertake when they stumbled across the spectacle. 

What's even more wonderful is that the tomb remained protected from vandals and grave robbers during its time hidden far underground, which means that all of its secrets, presumably, remain preserved, such as the beautiful artwork that still captures the human eyes, and several artifacts that were left on the wall shelves. 

Of course, there's nothing unusual about finding an ancient Greek tomb, but this one, perhaps as unique as the Tomb of Bellerophon in Asia Minor, possesses a notable depiction of Cerberus, the three headed dog of the Underworld, who keeps the dead in and the living out. He is the grandest guard that Haides has in the Kingdom of the Dead.

The artwork of the tomb as well displays Cerberus being flanked by Hermes and Herakles (Hermes being an Underworld Psychopomp and Herakles being the Hero who captured the ferocious hound during His 12 Labors). Two centaurs also stand facing opposite of one another on the back wall, all together a wonderful testament to the religious, spiritual and mythological diversity of the ancient world, and the lives of the people who lived, loved and died in that world every day.

The workers and archaeologists who brought it to light after 2,000 years were in a fanatic celebration, because not only do we now have an amazingly preserved ancient Greek tomb with wonderful artwork, but there might be an entire Necropolis (an ancient City Cemetery) surrounding it. It remains unknown, at this time, who occupies the tomb. But still, the amazing amount of history and information that could now be at our fingertips is invaluable.

The burial was far enough underground that no one was able to interfere with it, the people buried inside being forever at peace while Europe erupted in continuous chaos above their chambers. Their bodies were far removed from the upper world that would eventually hate them for their religious devotion, but today, perhaps it is fitting that widespread religious freedom and the restoration of ancient Hellas has made their return to the living world more likely and welcoming.

In the Goodness of the Gods,

I'll see you at the next Herm down the road,

Chris Aldridge.

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Life's Altar Blocks Are Always Drenched In Blood

When people hear that word, sacrifice, especially in an ancient Greek or Pagan context, their first thoughts are the common forms of said practice, whether it be a sacrifice in terms of something of great value given to a God or Gods, or the ritual sacrifice of a prized animal such as livestock, to those Deities. Normally, we conjure up an image of the goat or lamb being laid upon the altar, or at least led up to it, and their throats cut open as prayers are cried out to the Higher Powers, and the blood of the victim drenches the ground. Then perhaps some wonderful libations follow. It might even end with a Seer inspecting the entrails for a sign or omen from above.

Generally speaking, sacrifices of this kind are to gain the attention of the Gods for reciprocity, but I also think that something the ancients understood, and that we should still realize to this day, is that there is no blessing that doesn't require a sacrifice. Everything we do in life, we have to give our best. Nothing comes easy or falls into our lap. Anything good or valuable you want out of life takes blood, sweat and tears, pain, hard work, and giving up certain things for others so that you can attain said goal. Sacrifice is what makes life itself move forward for everyone and everything. Just because it's not an animal's head on a blade, doesn't mean it's any less of a dedication and devotion, or a loss of something you might prize in order to hope for something more or better.

People seem to make the concept of sacrifice into such a taboo topic, or at least, they certainly used to. But when I think about all of the things I have willingly given up over the last 14 years to be where I am now, it amounts to far more than a farm animal. In order to get my wife, son, a new home and a new life, I've had to go through over a decade of sacrificing everything I knew from my life prior, giving up my homeland and everything that might have been any inheritance, and enduring a thousand mile trip across the nation. I've had to give immeasurable time, energy and stress to raising a special needs child so that he could be the best man possible. I spent years doing everything I could, hard or easy, to finish my college degree, and finally have done it just this year. Not to mention periods that were stationary and, at times, seemed like they were never going to progress, which caused a lot of depression and anxiety issues. 

But there's also an additional question you must ask yourself, Is it all worth it? I would say that, deep down, I always knew it was. With each sacrifice I made, hardship I endured, or obstacle I faced, the Gods put that vibrating spirit in my heart that always had the hope that, one day, it would all come to fruition. And so it has. Life, of course, is not over, and hopefully won't be for a great many years to come. As we continue to drive the chariot that the Gods have given us, there will be more bumps and broken axles, more potholes and perils, and more rainy days to accompany the sunny ones. Life is ever changing. More sacrifices, in whatever form, will probably be made. But again, sacrifice drives the chariot on.

In the Goodness of the Gods,

I'll see you at the next Herm down the road,

Chris Aldridge.

And consider bookmarking my site by clicking on the star in the top right corner of the web bar.