Ode to the Gentleman.

“The end of all etiquette is to so cultivate your mind that even when you are quietly seated, not the roughest ruffian can dare make onset on your person.” It means, in other words, that by constant exercise in correct manners, one brings all the parts and faculties of his body into perfect order and into such harmony with itself and its environment as to express the mastery of spirit over the flesh.”

― Inazo Nitobe, Bushido: The Soul of Japan

"Gentleman: a term for a chivalrous, courteous, or honourable man." – Wikipedia.

Where have the Gentlemen gone? Have we killed them?

Though I wasn’t born in the era, I yearn for a renaissance of The Gentleman.

I am 🤏🏻 this close to pulling a full Peaky Blinders OG Gentleman arc in my life.

Last week, I taught myself how to use a straight razor. One of the many sidequests I'm taking on my semi-sabbatical. There are other benefits to having a few inches of sharpened steel up against your jugular, I'll save those for later.

Days of care, craftsmanship, etiquette, ethics, honour, honesty, presentation, purpose.

When the true aristocratic spirit—excellence—animated people.

• An age when we undertook the task of architecting culture seriously.
• An era when our word was our bond.
• Where the opportunity to participate in building a civilized society was deemed a worthy undertaking.
• A brief moment where we tried our damndest to look respectable when entering the public domain because we respected the enterprise of human society.

We are fundamentally social creatures.

Up and down the stack (biology, psychology, neurology, spirituality, emotionality), you track social signals like an autistic savant. Thousands of impressions hit you every step down the sidewalk.

Just beneath conscious awareness, you form a dynamic and sophisticated ‘under-standing’ of the whole. What’s acceptable, what’s emerging, what’s dying. You synthesize an orchestra of social signals into an unnamable but ever-present Gestalt of the human enterprise. 

And I, for one, am fed up with what’s broadcast these days.

All Hail the Degens.

The message is crystalline: humanity is no longer worthy of beauty, goodness, and excellence.

“Caring isn't cool. Effort is out—apathetic nonchalance is in. Looking like garbage in public is welcome. Swearing like a sailor is fine because you're obviously ‘thinking too fast’ to muster better vernacular. Being chronically sedated is normal.”

“...well if you deconstruct the colonialist intersectional motif of the incumbent zeitgeist, you’ll inevitably conclude this banana a beacon of the Proletariat humanitarian struggle juxtaposed against the Bourgeois heteronormative impulse of oppression. Truly the upper echelons of artistic excellence. And of course, Foucault once argued similarly when…”

Degenerate trivialities wrapped up in quasi-intellectual babble.

While I accept this is happening—as it has been for centuries—I will not stand by and allow it. I will not succumb to it.

A great bamboozling is afoot. A sophisticated psychological operation. Like Indiana Jones swapping out an ornate golden statue for a sack of beans...

We're living through a modern remake of George Orwell's 1984:

UGLINESS IS BEAUTY.
MEDIOCRITY IS EXCELLENCE.
VICE IS VIRTUE.

And if you have a problem being surrounded and bombarded by this deluge of apathetic, nihilistic, monotonous monstrosity—you’re the maladjusted one.

“Take this synthetic chemical cocktail for the rest of your life just to function and get out of bed in the morning. That’s how the majority of us are doing it now.”

Walking through modern cities, scrolling the virtual streets of social media—it’s a vast demoralization campaign. Softcore porn. Grown men trading Pokemon cards. The cult of Andrew Tate.

It hurts. It physically pains me. Part of me weeps in witness of this.

I am spiritually exhausted seeing the majority of people look like they just rolled out of bed, on the brink of death, mainlining 40oz of caffeine and sugar in gigantic Stanley cups, adorned in vapid overpriced 'athleisure' sweatshop slop.

I’d prefer it if they had just rolled out of bed! But in most cases, this is a carefully crafted image, replete with outfits, haircuts, and jewelry running thousands of dollars to strike the delicate balance between “I’m higher status than you” and “I don’t give a shit”.

Morbidly obese, in debt, SSRI-zombie eyes, monotonous speech, parroting the latest Party Slogans, sexually impotent, emotionally dysregulated, everything made of cheap toxic plastic trash, grey lifeless buildings, rampant numbness. 

The soul of humanity withering away...

I get overwhelmed at times—but I will never be blackpilled. There is always opportunity. So long as there is breath in my lungs there is something to do.

Surprisingly, the clearer I notice this without flinching, the more I try to articulate it: the more my heart rips open. Something is summoned deep within me.

Chogyam Trungpa used to call it basic goodness.

Reclaim the Gentleman.

• Men who stood when a lady entered the room.
• Men whose word was worth their weight in gold.
• Men who dressed, acted, and spoke with class.
• Men who took pride in their craft and their life.
• Men who aimed at excellence and strove toward it.
• Men of taste, etiquette, artistry, culture, philosophy, science.
• Men who elevated the human endeavour to something transcendent.
• Men of action. 
• Men who care. 
• Men who aim up. 
• Men who pursue Man’s Highest Nature.

The Gentleman—and everything the archetype entails (etiquette, culture, class, refinement, presentation, contribution)—is a crystallized form of self-mastery.

"In its highest form, politeness almost approaches love." — Inazo Nitobe

It's a basic form of respect for people:

"Hi, I love you and I respect you, and to show you that, I will do my best in everything. I will take pride in how I look, act, walk, talk, speak, breathe, dress, dance, and participate in society. I will be someone who reminds you of the goodness of humanity."

Before we close, an acknowledgement: yes, there's far more to the Gentleman archetype than how you look. Some will brush this off as a vain and superficial rant. I did too, for a long time. But your body and appearance are an expression of your spirit. Take from that what you will.

God knows I am not innocent in all of this. I have a long and storied history with various forms of social degeneracy. Chronically stoned dirty hippy, violent and aggressive anarchist, loud and obnoxious skate culture. I've been there...

But that boy is gone. I laid him to rest. The man was born, and he means business. 

This Man is ready to breathe life back into the heart of humanity—to in spire others.

To reclaim the Gentleman and bring about a Renaissance of Class. To sharpen his intellect, bolster his ethics, back his words with action, to look, be, and become a bit more respectable each day.

You are Indra’s Net: a jewel reflecting every other. A node broadcasting to the entire network. You are always broadcasting something. You can only choose what message you send.

What message are you sending? 

Please, let it be one of care, craft, honour, sincerity, integrity, passion, purpose, elegance, transcendence, wisdom, knowledge, style, grace, and excellence—in all ways, always, in service of all beings.

Let it be a message fit for a Gentleman,
EB.