Long ago, in another time, in the age of heroes and gods, myths and legends, in the City of Corinth, in a mountain, there was the Temple of Aphrodite, where therein lived the Hetaerai, or Hetaera, who were prostitutes of the soul.
These were highly educated women, in all domains, be it music, dancing, rhetoric, logic. They were far above the paygrade of the average Greek, because they provided something more than just sex. Of course there was a divine aspect to their relationships with their clients, but let us take this divine meaning more to the point, as in it was divine because it was fucking beautiful and righteous, and not because it was deemed sacred.
People from all over the ancient world, albeit people of station, came to visit these Hetaerai in their Temple not especially to have sex, because common profane sex could be had with the most lowly female slave. No, these women provided men of status with a more valuable experience, one that can only be explained when we consider the role of Muses in Art. That is the role of the woman who guides you, who inspires you, with whom you can be at ease, but also the woman who can enchant, prophesied, make you believe in yourself even when you have reached rock bottom and it seems that nothing can save you from your melancholy and lack of self respect. Many people rightfully find this “recapture of meaning” tru the christian god, but this is done in submission, under a strict and narrow rejection of the earthly delights and in closeted contemplation. The Hetaerai “experience” was the complete opposite of the christian “finding god tru rejection of the mundane reality”, it about finding the sacred IN the mundane reality, and finding your strength in a real world, in your earthly character and in your time left on earth. In other words, the difference between going to Church or a Monastery and going to the Temple of Aphrodite in Corinth was that one sought to make his presence divine not on the next life, but on this life.
I have eloquated in an article called “Bestial vs Classy Debauchery” the difference between the sensuality that exists in its crude, profane form, and the sensuality that existed in ritualistic and meaningful form. Back then it came to mind to compare the brutal bestial sensuality of someone Miley Cyrus twerking with the beautiful and enlightening classy experience of the Parisian Brothel of the 1800s. What didn’t come to mind at the time was that it’s not just about classy sensuality, but the value of the experience being of much higher caliber, transcending sex itself. A relationship with a Hetaera was not about getting laid, as i said before, it was about getting your shit together and being elevated, being inspired, being enchanted and for some reason the ancients found that gravitas in the form of the Sacred Prostitute, in a woman.
Now now, I was to start exposing the idea that high quality men need women to be successful, that would piss off a lot of the Redpill Orthodox Christian Right that exists on Substack, but somehow that is precisely what I am going to do. Men and Women are complementary. When one sees women as just the Inferior sex, one is doing the same thing as the Left is doing when they consider women the Superior sex. He is playing the contrarian game and declaring an absurdity contrary to another, he is being a reactionary in the literal sense, a person that just reacts. Women are not inferior to men, they are complementary to men. The reason the modern Dissident cannot hold that belief is because Modern Western Women are not worthy of such belief. These Left Wing Feminists whom we express our deepest hatred on the daily, who ruined dating and relationships, are not reflective of what a woman should be, let alone what a woman could be. In keeping with our Greek story let us pretend these abominations are the lowly slaves which the master fucks and that is their only purpose. The Sacred Prostitutes of Ancient Greece were neither slaves who needed a master’s firm hand (the feminist bitch), nor were they masters who needed slaves (the fendom bitch), nor were they nuns (the trad wife bitch), they were something else, which is a complementary companion who can inspire the opposite sex without placing herself above or below a man, without needing to be master or slave. One that can inspire the right man to do great deeds, to believe in himself, to elevate himself on the astral plane, to be better.
There are Hetaerae amongst us, they are just, as most divine things, a thing of chance, not of certainty.
Let us leave the realm of poetic prose for a second and return to the real world. It was Saturday and I was looking for some action. I was highly depressed and caught up with a bad thinking pattern that dominated me and my worldview. I called upon my then favorite pastime to merely take my mind off all this heavy shit for a while, prostitution. I called three prostitutes to see if they were available, and none was. Until I, scrolling through my phone, found a girl that is most puzzling to me. We never made good lovers, but we’ve always been good friends, and then I thought that if I called her, I wouldn't get laid, but I decided to call her anyway, because as I said previously, she never fails to amuse me. She ended up being available and she came to my house, had a shower and i couldn’t help but open up to her, tell her my woes and my troubles, and confess to her that i called her because i needed a bit of her happy attitude around me and that i had no-one else that would uplift me. We chatted, drinked a bit and decided to go treat ourselves to a meal and some drinks at a fancy restaurant. Now as i was having dinner with her i decided to go for a smoke, and my mind kept thinking “jesus man this one won’t fuck you, what are you even doing? why are you buying her drinks? why are you buying her food? what is this? is she manipulating you?” and i returned to the table, but something weird started to happen, and it was not (just) because of the alcohol. I was, for the first time in a long time, very fucking happy. We were talking about meaningful things and having a meaningful conversation, we were discussing plans for the future, we were laughing at meaningful jokes and having a very good time, and the food was feeling amazing. At some point I caught myself looking at her beautiful face and my temptation almost gave in, but I refrained from making a move, not because I didn't want to or had not the courage to, but because something told me that it would ruin that perfect moment. You see, I needed that moment, that conversation, that inspiration. She knew me deeply and she was talking about my potential, what she saw in me, and how I should lift myself up, how I should respect myself. At first I thought she meant that I should lift myself up to live up to her expectations as a potential future boyfriend, but it was clear to me there was something more about it. It was clear to me she genuinely liked me, and she wanted me to be the best version of myself. That seemed naive, until I began thinking about the Hetaera, about these highly educated women of Ancient Greece, who may or may not have sex with you, but the experience with them is so much more than just sex, it is that of a Muse, and inspirational presence. She was lifting me up spiritually, giving meaning to my night, and making me feel good, and she was doing it because she felt it was her duty, her calling. To make this even more strange and prophetic, the bill I paid that night was EXACTLY THE SAME as the price of sex with a luxury escort. I instantly felt that there was something amusing about the situation, and I told her about it, but until today, until making this comparison with the Hetaerae, I could not put my finger on what it truly was. You see, i was paying the same i would for a fuck, yet i was not getting laid. It was much better than getting laid, because somehow, in some way, she was being more enticing, more arousing, more uplifting and more meaningful than any encounter with a prostitute, than any one hour fuck.
I set out to find an orgasm and I ended up getting my mind blown instead. Same price, but it was much nicer.
I should mention that once upon a time we had sex, and it was not good, but we kept liking eachother and getting along.
I hope that serves to illustrate my point about the Hetaera , the Sacred Prostitutes of Ancient Greece, and how, like the Japanese Geisha, they were, and maybe still are, the perfect blend of Inspiration and Sensuality. A more civilized weapon from a more civilized age.