Kardashian Kim - My beautiful despair: the philosophy of Kim Kierkegaardashian

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Touchstone

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Copyright 2018 by Existential Enterprises LLC

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First Touchstone hardcover edition July 2018

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Interior design by Jill Putorti

Illustrations by Dash Shaw

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data is available.

ISBN 978-1-9821-0098-8

ISBN 978-1-9821-0100-8 (ebook)

For all those living in times of despair who still manage to look their best

I first met Kim Kierkegaardashian in 2018, in Los Angeles. Although my bread and butter is the teaching of philosophy, I am a notorious bon vivant , and I frequent fashion shows and soires whenever possible, particularly when I am in America. I find there is nowhere better to understand philosophys penetrating critique than among the wealthy. I was at a gathering at the home of an actor who had once been a student of mine, when I noticed a person who was standing just apart from everyone else and yet was the object of considerable attention: a figure, notable even among that attractive crowd for radiating an intense charisma, dressed with incredible flair, and whose face projected an air of deep intelligence.

I asked my host who this remarkable person was. I was informed that it was Kim Kierkegaardashian.

Now, most of you may know Kim Kierkegaardashian as the creator of the popular eponymous Twitter account, which has been described as an amalgamation of the world of the American reality star Kim Kardashian West with the philosophy of Sren Kierkegaard, the Danish existentialist philosopher who died in 1855. The musings therein seem to combine some words uttered or tweeted by Ms. West, combined with bits and fragments from the numerous tomes of Herr Kierkegaard.

As parody, the work is par excellence , for it pokes fun at the reality star while also taking the wind out of the sometimes ponderous Mr. Kierkegaard. But, as I and many of my colleagues aver, Kim Kierkegaardashians words do not exist as mere mockery. Indeed, some of the aphorisms seem to show us a heretofore unnoticed depth to the life of the reality star, and add a surprising frisson of contemporaneity to the work of the Danish philosopher. And indeed, as the best writing may do, these pithy sayings transcend their subject matter, to be read as statements on existence more broadly.

I, too, was an admirer of the work. But up until that evening in Los Angeles, I had assumed that Kim Kierkegaardashian existed merely as a construct of language. Never had I suspected that this figure from the Internet was indeed an actual person .

But here, standing before me, was that same person. To be clear, this was not the person behind the Internet persona. Rather, standing here was the true Kim Kierkegaardashian, the living embodiment of the two disparate cultural figures, united into one flesh.

Emboldened by a flute or two of champagne (which is my preferred drink, even in the States) I dared to approach. I introduced myself as an admirer. Those remarkable dark eyes lit up, charming pleasantries were exchanged, and from that mouth came witty and hilarious linesinsights into the world of fashion, observations about the culture of celebrity, apparently mundane tips about makeup, followed by profound and insightful quips that peeled back the truth of our strange times, and seemed to expose the meaning of life itself. I made a comment on the lovely scent of perfume I detected. Ah, my new fragrance, came the reply. It smells of modern lifes nauseating air.

Now each time Kierkegaardashian spoke, it was only very brieflet us say, roughly 140 characters, and then the eyes would briefly fall, and one could detect a sigh escape from those otherworldly lips.

I had the sudden fear of wearying the great mind with too much idle chatter, and excused myself to the bar. But I saw that no sooner did I step away than others approachedfans and admirersto bask in the glow. The beautiful, thoughtful face would light up, out from that well-formed mouth would pour forth wisdom and bon mots , the surrounding crowd would respond with appreciative laughter, they would raise their glasses here and there in appreciation. I heard someone in the crowd mention that Kierkegaardashian was expected soon to pay a visit to a fellow celebrity in the White House. I was somehow not surprised. Was not the glamorous philosopher perfectly suited to show the man in the Oval Office the despair in which he unconsciously dwells, and to give him tips on toning down his orange glow besides?

I asked myself: Who was this remarkable person who was here, and yet not here? This person who was the life of the party, and yet who seemed so completely set apart from the crowd? Who seemed at times so cheerful, and then so very sad?

As I looked into Kierkegaardashians eyes, I came to the following conclusion. That here was a person for whom this party, this life of celebrity and beauty and fashion and politics, was all a distraction from more profound and serious concerns. Even though she stood at the center of such glamour, even though she was surrounded by people whose lives were steeped in money and glitter, the accoutrements of such livesthe private planes, the smartphones, the couture gowns, the glossy magazineswere exactly the things that interested Kim Kierkegaardashian least .

I had by now downed several more flutes of champagne , in direct contradiction to my doctors orders. I grew more attracted to that solemn yet cheerful figure. I walked across the room once more...