Various theories exist as to why the Kardashians are famous. Some blame it on Paris Hilton, while others say it’s because Kim made a sex tape. Another theory blames society as a whole, simply stating that modern humans have become so stupid that they will idolize anything placed on TV (especially if it’s pretty, pouting and argumentative).
What few people understand, however, is the sinister and ancient nature of Kardashian fame. It’s a dark history; a tale of rituals, sacrifice and breasts (obviously).
The Rise of the Clan Kardashian
In 1809, a dark-haired woman strode through the deep forests of Armenia. The rain lashed down through the trees, the water making her robes heavy and thick. But she was determined.
The young woman was Kekel Kardashian, the great, great, great, great grandmother of Kim, Kourtney and co. She was beautiful, but her life was hard. At 19 years of age, she had just had her first child. Intent on forging a better future for her offspring, Kekel sought out the Witch Clan of the Shikahogh Woods.
The Witch Clan possessed powerful magick — dark spells and ancient curses that had made them enemies of the Armenian State. Now, deep in the darkwoods, they practiced their arts away from the prying eyes of an increasingly modern and intolerant society.
Kekel walked for days, her dark eyes fixed to the rough and ancient trails of the vanished woodland tribes. Follow your heart, they had told her, and you will find the Clan. But be careful, they had said, for the witches will demand much of you, much more than you can imagine.
Finally, Kekel came upon a clearing. Gnarled trees rose up from the earth like tortured hands. Beyond the rough clearing, beyond the dark earth, the mouth of a cave gaped like the throat of a beast. Within, faint traces of flame cast shadows in the depths, ghostly tremors of light and movement.
“Witches,” Kekel cried, “hear me!” Her words echoed back from the cave, unnatural and stripped of all humanity. “I come seeking a better future for my kin. I offer you all that you wish to take, I offer you my soul!”
Soul, soul, soul… The word echoed back, each repetition louder than the first.
Movement, solid movement from within. Cloaked and hooded figures began to emerge. They moved like flowing mud, connected to the ground, to the soul of the ancient earth. “Soul, you say?” said the first. A woman’s voice, but something more, something stronger.
Four witches now stood in the clearing, eyes fixed upon Kekel from beneath their tattered hoods. “Soul? You have a soul, a soul to give?”
“I have a strong heart, but my life is troubled,” said Kekel. “No matter how hard I try, I cannot make my way in this world. I ask nothing for myself, but I ask you now to give fame, fortune and physical beauty to my offspring and to future generations of Kardashians. Make the Kardashians famous and free them from my toil!”
The second witch now spoke: “Fame, fortune and physical beauty, you ask no more?”
“Nothing more, wise witches, nothing more.”
“And so it shall be. But first you must do the Dance of Shikahogh!” The other witches cried with glee, “The dance, the dance, she shall do the dance! The Dance of Shikahogh!”
Kekel stepped closer. “I shall do the dance. Tell me how.”
And so it was that Kekel Kardashian submitted to the Dance of Shikahogh, an ancient dance that the witches enjoyed more than any other. They ordered Kekel to disrobe, to stand naked in front of them. And so she did. She stood in all her perfection upon the dark earth of the clearing, and the rain began to fall upon her perfectly formed breasts, her smooth thighs, her raven hair, the cleft of her exquisitely formed buttocks.
The witches then adorned her in preparation for the dance. They placed a hedgehog upon her head; they hung a leopard’s tail from her buttocks (“clench,” they cried, “clench”); they affixed the tiny beaks of two snowcocks to her protruding nipples; her feet were placed inside the severed paws of a giant bear.
“Now dance!” they cried, “Dance the Dance of Shikahogh!”
Kekel was a terrible dancer, but she tried. Oh how she tried. The witches were happy and they began to sing amidst bouts of hysterically laughter:
She dances, she dances,
The Dance of Shikahogh!
What a fool she looks,
What a tit,
As she dances with a hog on her head,
And a bear on her feet!
Indeed, Kekel looked like a total idiot. The witches laughed uncontrollably, snorting and cackling and occasionally releasing foul-smelling farts as they watched her performance. One even rolled around in the dirt, doubled over in all her glee.
They had taken her dignity for their own amusement. They had also drawn impressively detailed sketches of the dancing Kekel, which they later sold to the Armenian press. They then spread gossip throughout the nation, telling of her ridiculous dance.
And so it was. So it began. Kekel returned to her village, but her family and friends shunned her; she had become a joke in society. She returned to the darkwoods, where she remained, isolated and alone, with only her child for company.
But the witches had not lied. Kekel was damned to loneliness, but her child — and all her female descendents — received what the Witch Clan of Shikahogh had promised:
Fame, fortune and physical beauty, nothing more.
Talent, wisdom, dignity… Such things have been lost to the line of Kardashian women, but they have always had a strange capacity for achieving fame, fortune and physical beauty. But nothing more. Nothing more.
And that is why the Kardashians are famous. At least, it seems to make as much sense as any other theory.