Sunday, December 23, 2012

COFFEE WITH SATAN: THE MEANING OF XMAS ACCORDING TO THE DEVIL







Satan and I had skirted on the subject before, but never in great detail and I saw Christmas 2012 as an opportunity to set some records straight.  We met at the Starbucks in Santa Maria on Main Street yesterday afternoon, the 22nd of December.

N: So, the world did not end.  We're still here.

S: As I said.  End of the world fears go back a long, long time.  People really have a kind of erotic fervor for the end of the days.  It's romantic.  And it always works in creating havoc and so on.  But I admit, this particular time, it wasn't as big as I thought it would be.  The world has become cynical.

N: Thanks to you.

S: You're welcome.  And in some ways, people don't believe what they see as much as they used to.  There's a lot of mistrust about the media.  But we'll adapt to that.

N: Okay, so let's talk about Christmas.

S: Fire away.

N: You claim that you invented Christmas.






S: Let's be clear about a couple things and then you'll understand my genius even more.

N: Sure.

S: The thing about celebrating with loved ones at the end of the year, that's been around since the beginning.  It's one of the oldest habits known to man.  Way, way before The Bible was written.  So, there's that.

N: And that was not called Christmas.

S: A lot of things, but not Christmas.  "Saturnalia" was one name.  The pagans had a particularly deep love of this holiday.

N: Okay.

S: I basically took a pre-existing habit and turned it into something evil.

N: Which is your bread and butter.  Taking something good and converting it into evil.

S: I recycle like everyone else.  A great example is of course, bottled water. I took one of your greatest natural resources and packaged it in petroleum encasing and now its a 4 billion dollar a year business.  With Christmas, I took the most generous time of the year and turned it into the birthday of a God.

N: Jesus Christ.

S: Look, J.C. even credits me on this.  He said, good one.    As I said before, J.C. was born on September 27th.

N: So, what did you envision with Christmas.





S: I wanted to turn the most generous time of the year into the most stressful, difficult, hellish time of the year and I think I've achieved that.  Americans will spend on average $650 every year on Christmas.  Generally to buy things no one cares about.  Stuff that will get thrown away and live in the oceans.  In the name of J.C.  And businesses are completely dependent on it.  If you took Christmas away, the world would end.

N: And this is hard wired into our DNA anyway.  This feeling of generosity.

S: Yes, you can't help it.  Every society has a version of it, if not Christmas.  Jews have Hannukka.  Whatever.  It's all good.  You can't escape Christmas.  Santa Claus.

N: Your invention?

S: Oh yeah.  Santa was one of my greatest inventions.  And you notice Santa has nothing to do with J.C.  He's not in The Bible anywhere.  There's no book of Santa Claus.  He's a drunk, fat guy.

N: I always thought that idea of someone trespassing into your house and leaving you presents because they were aware of your behavior for the year was weird.

S: Because it is fucking weird!

N: So, why did you make him fat and drunk?

S: To promote eating and drinking as much as humanly possible.  I'm not happy until people are having strokes and their stomachs are falling apart or they get diabetes or some other fucked up shit.

N: People actually feel compelled to eat more because Santa is fat?

S: Bro, he's a role model.  He's a spokesman.  You look up to him whether you like or not.  That's the first thing they tell you when you're little.  Santa is coming to town and so on.  Fat guy knows if you've been naughty or nice.  He can be anywhere.  He brings children toys and other objects of desire.  They say you have to be good, but let's be honest here.  Good and bad kids receive gifts. And everybody knows it.  So, in your mind, you're getting an object of desire no matter what and you feel jilted if you don't.

N: Sounds like "materialism"?

S:  Bingo.  It was materialism at its inception.  We knew it would take a lot of generations before that desire for toys got buried in your DNA.  Amazing that I made him bright red and still no one ever made the connection.   Imagine Jesus coming off the fucking cross, going through your chimney, bleeding all over you living room, delivering you a present -

N: Right, no one would eat anything.

S: Yeah, people would be like Ghandi and fast - it would be a nightmare.  Okay, if I have to go soon, fire away one last one.

N: Last minute Christmas shopping.

S: You know me, dude.  Buy, buy, buy.

N: What's your favorite part of Christmas?

S: It was the door that opened the Christianity epidemic.  I managed to turn a concept of generosity and kindness...

N: That being Christianity?

S: Yes, don't laugh.  That's what it was, originally.  But I managed to turn that concept of kidness and loving thy neighbor and what not into into the most genocidal bullies this world has ever known.  And Christmas was the key.  That makes my egg nog taste really good.

N: I know you already told me but tell me again for the readers who didn't read the conversation.

S: I can tell you a thousand times, bro.  I'll never get bored.  Emperor Constantine tried hard to make Christianity the official religion.  But he could not bend the Pagans to his will.  Took everything away from Pagan worshipping.  So, I came up with the idea that they keep their holiday but worship - you know - someone else.  And they accepted it.  Instead of worshipping all that Earthly shit on December 25th, you worship baby Jesus!  I'm lovin' that.





N: So, not only are you not worshipping Pagan God...

S: You're not worshipping Jesus either, because he wasn't born that day.  He was born three fucking months ago!  Man, I'm good.

N: So, Christmas is the inception of a mass genocidal concept, materialism and horrible eating habits.

S:  As I said, one of my greatest ideas.

N: Why do you like Thanksgiving more then?

S: Because it's more transparent.  You can connect the dots very easily.  Christmas has more smoke screens.  You can understand why humans have been manipulated.  Thanksgiving is amazing, in the sense that people celebrate it so outrightly.  It's proof that your people are evil at heart.  That they would party on such a fucked up event.  Anyway, really must get going.  You want an egg nog.

N: It's digusting here.  Everything tastes worse everytime I come here.

S: Thanks bro.  I appreciate that.  I really do.  Merry Christmas.

Saturday, December 22, 2012

BVD + BLACK SOCK


Copyright Friday the 13th, 2009




His name was BVD.  He was made out of cotton.  He was white.  Well, he was once white.  Now, he was more beige-like. 

Let’s face it, BVD was an underwear.

He only worked once every couple weeks.  He had to support a pair of hairy balls and a curvy stick.  For an entire day, he provided these hairy balls and curvy stick with support, prevent all of them from swelling up and turning two or three times its size. 

BVD had a tough job.  But he was very good at this.  Securing these balls and stick.  Keeping them secure for the entire day.  No matter how many times these things bounced and sweated and smelled, BVD did the job.  Secured these three things.

But BVD was getting old, securing these balls and stick for a long period of time took a toll on BVD.  Parts of him were ripping apart.  His body was not handling the handling of the balls and stick as well as he once had. 

It was especially difficult on BVD when he was thrown in a giant cauldron of hot, foamy, tidal wave water, a necessity to restore BVD into a clean state for further ball handling.

This violent excursion is what wore on BVD.  It made him feel like he was being swallowed into a mouth of fire...

Regardless, this was his favorite time of the month.

Although they were stored in the same buckets, he did not see her until one of these times.

He remembered it like was yesterday.

Him.  BVD.  Crashing, smashing, collapsing into other underwears, shirts, scarves. 

Entangling into garments he never cared for. Drowning in lava-like water.  Another day of physical devastation. 

He especially hated the scarf.  The scarf didn’t like him much either.

“Will you get off me!”, he yelled at the too-long, tentacly, useless garment.

“Why don’t you detach yourself from me,” insisted the scarf.

But BVD was stuck.  Once you were against the scarf, you were stuck against him for a long period.  Unless you could latch on to an oncoming garment large enough to rip yourself away. 

But there was nothing like that spinning his direction.  He could be attached to this distasteful being for the entire boiling, body-ripping cycle.

“Alas, I am stuck on you”, announced BVD.

“I too am disgusted.  I shan’t enjoy the remainder of this cycle, dear boy,” retorted the scarf.

The scarf’s accent was an unfriendly sound that only made close proximity a more grading experience than it had to be. 

“It is you who is harassing my existence, dear boy, it is...”

And just like so, BVD was free of the scarf, watching the scarf’s sinewy body swim away like a giant, headless squid. 

BVD had no idea how he had detached himself from the scarf.  When he noticed the black spot.  Which he followed and realized was a black sock.  She did not resemble a sock at this time, more like a black ball.  She had grown heavier in this moist atmosphere, as socks typically do.

But she was very small and weighty enough to pry him away from the scarf.

“That scarf is a jerk”, she announced foppishly.

“Yes,” replied BVD, uncertain what else to say about this scarf, or in regards to the interaction they were currently exchanging.

And then, ”thank you for prying me away from this scarf”.

“I understand what it’s like, that scarf bites,” the black sock said as they spun around in twisted boiling water, hanging on to each other to prevent being attached to anything else, something perhaps worse than the scarf.

It had dawned on BVD later, after returning to the clean, whiter state, that the black sock had wanted to be attached to him.  Perhaps she liked him.  It never occurred to him that a sock could like an underwear.  Especially a black one liking a white one.

And the next month, instead of dreading the boiling typhoon waters, he looked forward it. 

The ripping, twisting, pummeling of his underwear body.  The tear jerking pain.  The spine crushing concussions.  BVD anticipated this horror with a newfound joy he never thought could possess him.

During the next wash, he crashed into a pair of jeans, the dreaded zipper of the jeans which knocked him out into complete blackness, then a monstrous hooded sweatshirt which smelled like death itself enveloping him, suffocating his being like a liquid coffin.

When he came out of this, he realized the black sock was once again attached to him.

“Those hooded sweatshirts are such a nightmare”, she said.

“Yes,” replied BVD, so physically decimated he saw three black socks even though she was just one. 

And they rode the rest of this twisting, hellish ordeal together again.

And then this became a habit for BVD and the black sock of his dreams.  BVD was overjoyed with her company.  Her smell.  Her texture.  Her every black sockness. 

“I detest that corduroy pants,” she said,” that corduroy material makes me feel gross all over”.

He agreed.  The black sock spoke his thoughts.  Uttered his opinions in purest, poetic forms.  Just like the black sock itself. 

And as years went by, they always found a way to ride the shockwave of extreme heat, volcano-eske atmosphere and neck pounding water punches.  While every other garment screamed, shrieked, cried in tortured cries, BVD was overjoyed with his togetherness with that black sock, the perfect garment, the perfect materials, colors, textures, form, shape.

And when his body started to break down, and BVD was no longer what he once was, he still found a way to make it into the deadly cauldron.

“You can’t keep coming in here, BVD,” the black sock said.

“I want to,” BVD insisted.

“You will die if you keep coming in here.  As your underwear body can no longer handle it.”

But BVD kept returning, even when he wasn’t due for a wash, as his body could no longer sustain the ball and curvy stick duties that was once entrusted upon him.

His body was filled with holes.  Ripping apart like a piece of unpresentable deli meat.  He had faced the cauldron too many times and was a couple washes from being ripped into several, if not a dozen pieces of himself, and thus would become useless and face complete extinction.

“You can’t keep coming here, BVD,” the black sock said.  Somehow, she had faced very little damage to her being.  Her blackness hid any flaws.  Her littleness limited how much damage you could see from her age.  She aged very well and could live on much longer than he, the white, shredded, barely functioning BVD underwear.

“I can’t imagine life without you, black sock”,” BVD said.

“Don’t be silly, you can hide below the other garments and lead a simple life, avoid further washings and lead a relaxed life like other overused underwears.  I’ve seen it and I insist that is what you do”.

BVD took her advice and lived under the radar.  When it was time for a wash, BVD managed to stay below other garments, hide comfortably with the other underwears and socks.

And he was in the company of other torn underwears, socks riddled with holes, shirts that were so thin, you could see right through them.  His body had taken severe beatings over these years.  And the only good thing he could recall was being in that boiling cauldron with the black sock and listening to her speak his thoughts.

“That scarf is a jerk”, he recalled her saying.

“Corduroy garments are all assholes,” he remembered pleasingly.

“Hooded sweatshirts have such big egos because they’re always being used, but have you ever seen a hooded sweatshirt no longer in use.  That’s fucking sad”.

As a matter of fact, BVD was staring plainly at one right now.  He was old.  Shredded.  The hood barely attached to his sweatshirt body.  Pieces hanging off him, falling off him like a dark cloud raining cotton balls and other types of stuffings.  Shit, you wanted to put a bullet right through this hooded sweatshirt.

“I loved that scarf”, you could barely him say. 

“You mean, that long, sinewy, squid like creature?” Added BVD?

“Yes, that’s her, have you seen her?”

BVD didn’t want to say, but he thought that scarf had been a “he” and not a “she”.

“Yes, I have, Mr.Hooded Sweatshirt”, added BVD, coughing himself.  He was no longer a new underwear but an old one.

“She was beautiful, sinewy and always entangled herself on my hoodedness when I went in there”.

And BVD understood that his feelings also belonged to the old, beaten, rotten hooded sweatshirt’s.  And together they would commiserate about their lost loved ones for days, months...  cry, weep, recant the same stories about how the garments of their dreams entangled herself on his majestic hooded sweatshirtness or BVDness.

Until one day BVD finally announced, “I’m going back to see her.  I have to see my black sock”.

“You will die if you do”, insisted the hooded sweatshirt, his voice crackling, “and she is not your black sock”. 

“She is mine”, argued BVD, coughing, hacking.  He noticed the hooded sweatshirt looking thinner these days as less and less stuffings remained in his hooded sweatshirt being.  He no longer looked like clothes but like a layer of some exotic animal’s skin, drying up in the sun irrelevantly.

“I don’t care,” BVD claimed.

But when it came time to enter the cauldron, he was shaking, vibrating with fear, death almost certainly claiming his underwear body. 

And when the boiling lava-like water filled to the top of the cauldron, BVD coughed hysterically and when other garments leveled against him, he felt like he could no longer see, hear or think. 

He was becoming an underwear without thoughts.  Without sight.  Without sound.  Just a plain old piece of beige like substance that did not supports balls and stick anymore, and thus did nothing but await the end.

The underwear body shredding, riiiiipppping, losing limbs of its underwear self... and other garments watched in terror and shock at BVD’s declining, near-dead state.

“I told you not to come back,” she said.

He could barely see her, hanging onto him, or whatever was left.  He could not reply.  He could only barely smell the black sock.  A very distinct olfactory sensation.

“Look at you, BVD, you’re a mess.”  She said in tears.  “You look like shit.  Why did you come back?”

And just as she said that, BVD became something like a hundred pieces.  All of himself exploded like fireworks, attaching itself to every piece of garment in the cauldron.

The black sock had never seen anything like it.

“Stupid underwear.  You’re even dumber than other underwears,” she said in tears, capturing this moment to her black sock memory.

As BVD faded from life, he captured her last words for whatever fractions was left of his existence, locking the black sock form into his mind, her voice, her demeanor and that was everything he needed as he expired.  

Friday, December 7, 2012

33 STRATEGIES OF SPORTS: THE INTELLIGENCE STRATEGY






The days you get your ass kicked, it’s usually not because of the situation, the person or organization you are facing – it’s because of your lack of preparation and attention. If you’re humiliated in a job interview, it’s because you didn’t know enough about the company’s philosophy. If you’re on a date and suddenly become an asshole, it’s because you’re not paying enough attention to the person sitting opposite you. In either case, you have become trapped in your own narcissism.

The greatest weapon is never more money or manpower, it’s the ability to read the mind of the man or woman you are facing. If you can read minds, you can literally accomplish anything. This is what the government calls “intelligence”. They never send agents out without having “Intel” brief them on their mission – like in a 007 movie.

In sports, when a favored opponent loses to a weaker one, they call it an “upset”. And if you’re into sports, the bigger the upset, the more thrilling the experience (unless you were cheering for the team that lost). Because, there is nothing like a good ass kicking that mirrors real life more accurately. Welcome Back to “The 33 Strategies of Sports”, a concoction of Robert Greene’s “33 Strategies of War” and sports history.

THE MIRRORED ENEMY


On the night of February 9th, 2012, The Los Angeles Lakers, lead by the greatest player of his generation, Kobe Bryant, had just defeated their bitter rival, the Boston Celtics 88-87. The Lakers were weary from a disappointing 6 game road trip (they lost 3 of them already). But there was never a greater remedy than facing their next opponents, The New York Knicks – in the world’s most famous arena, Madison Square Garden, where they always cheered for Bryant, even though he played for the other team.

Bryant made a career of destroying the Knicks in MSG, the Mecca of basketball – and humiliating his hero, Coach Mike D’Antoni (who played in the Italian league where Bryant grew up. Kobe loved nothing more than to kill his heroes). There was no reason to think the most ferocious competitor in basketball wouldn’t deliver another blow (Kobe had soundly defeated the Knicks 99-82 in December) – Except for one small factor, the emergence of a point guard who was buried in the Knicks bench only a week before (and a week prior to that, played in the D League). His name was Jeremy Lin. This young guard had led the Knicks to four consecutive victories, averaging 28 pts and 8 assists. Bryant was so unfamiliar with Lin, he seemed to be asking the reporters questions after the Boston game: “I know who he is, but I don’t really know what’s going on too much with him. I don’t even know what he’s done. Like, I have no idea what you guys are talking about. I’ll take a look at it tonight though.”



The reporters, of course, didn’t stop there. They did not believe that Bryant had not scouted Lin, an opponent he would face 18 hours later. Kobe grew visibly irritated when a reporter reminded him that Lin had a good game against him the year before (as a Golden States Warrior), recording 4 steals. The fact that Lin was playing at a high level and was Asian had already created a small media storm. China had begun broadcasting Knicks games. Asians who never watched basketball in their lives were tuning in regularly. Despite only having four starts, Jeremy Lin’s rise had been labeled “Linsanity”. Fed up, Kobe went on a minor rant: “What the fuck is going on? Who is this kid? I’ve heard about him and stuff like that, but what’s he been doing? Is he getting like triple doubles or some shit? He’s averaging 28 and eight? No shit. If he’s playing well, I’ll just have to deal with him.” When one reporter suggested that Bryant would guard Lin, Kobe shrugged this off and muttered: “Jesus Christ, let’s not get ahead of ourselves”.



The next evening, Bryant and the Lakers entered a Madison Square Garden they had not seen in long time. The place was sold out. Celebrities (along with diehard fans, Spike Lee and Woody Allen) were court side. So was Ben Stiller, Dwayne Johnson, and guys from The New York Giants, who had just won the Superbowl. The MSG crowd was roaring “Go New York Go!” like they did in their glorious past – they were no longer cheering for Bryant. But the Kobe way saw it, they would soon enough. He fed on such energy. His killer instincts made him salivate. He could not wait to quiet this monster down and force the Mecca of basketball on its knees and cheer for him once more. After all, he usually did. Additionally, the Knicks were also missing their two best players, Amar’e Stoudemire and Carmelo Anthony. This Lin guy alone could not defeat Bryant, Pau Gasol, and Andrew Bynum, could he?



The game began slowly for the Lakers, as the team took a late flight from Boston the night before. Bryant witnessed first hand what this Jeremy Lin could do, attacking the Lakers by shooting 4-5 buckets, leading the Knicks to a 22-15 first quarter lead. The sinewy Asian guard did not look that threatening. He had a boyish body. He looked awkward, compared to his athletic teammates. His hair was messy, like he just woke up from a nap. His face even appeared lazy. But somehow, Jeremy Lin always got to the basket. Or made a pass that resulted in one. It was a big game, and the 6-3, 200 lb. guard was delivering. By halftime, Madison Square Garden become thunderous.



But the score was only 49-41. Five time champion, Kobe Bryant had come back from far worse. He had missed the majority of his shots, but he was just getting warmed up. The second half would inevitably belong to him – it always had. And Bryant was right. The Mighty Lakers began to wear down the smaller Knicks. With 9:25 left in the game, the Lakers had trimmed the lead to 3 and Kobe Bryant smelled blood. But Kobe also noticed something odd about the lazy-eyed faced guard, who’s name everyone in MSG was chanting, along side “M-V-P!”. Jeremy Lin did not back down. He just kept attacking. He had scored the most points in the game.

With the game on the line, Jeremy Lin fed shooting guard Iman Shumpert for a jumper and on the following possession, Shumpert blew past Bryant for a dunk that sent the crowd into a frenzy. With the lead at eight, Jeremy Lin delivered the final blow, nailing a three point shot to knock out the mighty Lakers.



Final score: Knicks, 92, Lakers, 85. The most telling stats were that of Kobe Bryant vs. Jeremy Lin’s. Kobe had 34 points, Jeremy Lin had 38. Kobe had not only been defeated but out dueled, rolling the red carpet to the guy he had brushed off like a fly only the night before. Madison Square Garden went off like a megaton bomb as the take down of Kobe Bryant went global, paving the way for a new star in the NBA. Now, very aware of who Jeremy Lin was, a humbled Bryant said: “I think it’s a great story… a testament to perseverance and hard work. Good example for kids everywhere.”


INTERPRETATION



Kobe Bryant, perhaps the most meticulous and prepared player in the game, likely scouted Jeremy Lin and perhaps was even aware of the young guard’s situation. Lin was a great high school player who had to make DVDs of his games and beg Division I Programs for a college scholarship – he would not get one. He was given a scholarship at Harvard instead, where the NBA rarely looks.

Lin went undrafted to the Golden State Warriors, only to be dropped, then signed by the Houston Rockets, where he was also dropped. Out of desperation, and job security, Mike D’Antoni signed Lin but would not play him (instead sending him to the D-League). When the Knicks had to decide whether or not to sign Lin to a guaranteed contract, they had no choice but to give him minutes to see if he could ply... and the rest is history. The Knicks was his last stand.




In other words, Kobe Bryant’s attempt to intimidate his opponent backfired, as the most dangerous kind of opponent you can face is the one with nothing to lose. As Robert Greene warns: “if you let narcissism act as a screen between you and other people, you will misread them and your strategies may misfire. Every individual is like an alien culture. You must get inside his or her way of thinking. Only by knowing your enemies, can you ever hope to vanquish them”.

KEYS TO ENGAGEMENT



As Pau Gasol said after the game,”I think that you can stop a player from not getting 38 points on you any night. I don’t care how good he is, but I guess we didn’t step up to the challenge as a team. We overlooked him.” The NBA and every professional sports organization prides itself an acquiring intelligence on other teams and players. The higher the level, the higher the gathering of intelligence. So much analysis goes into a player’s habits, likes, dislikes, strength, weaknesses. But yet Jeremy Lin was overlooked by the entire food chain of basketball.

As Jeremy Lin himself stated two years before: “I just think in order for someone to understand my game, they have to watch me more than once, because I’m not going to do anything that’s extra flashy or freakishly athletic.” In other words, part of Lin’s strength is his ability to be “unscoutable”. He does not look all that impressive, perhaps uncoordinated and clumsy, and as a result, the Lakers did not take Jeremy Lin seriously.

In truth, Kobe Bryant did study Jeremy Lin’s game, but likely not more than Jeremy Lin studied Kobe. Since Lin precisely attacked Kobe's greatest weakness, his pride, engaging Bryant into the shooting contest that would render his teammates useless. Lin knew Kobe would grow quickly impatient with his big men and try to defeat the Knicks on his own. Kobe Bryant, the greatest player of his generation, was sucked into a vortex, when getting Andrew Bynum more involved (Bynum only scored 3 points) would have given the Lakers a tremendously greater chance of victory.

Like Kobe Bryant, you are likely walking into a Jeremy Lin-type buzz saw yourself right now. There is likely a situation or a person you are dealing with you don’t know enough about. And the moment you begin to get your ass kicked, you will be shocked and awed, then whine about your bad luck – but the power to avoid this was at your fingertips all along. Avoid seeing what you want to see and stare at the facts, the history, how someone reacts under pressure, and pay close attention to the people that give enough of a shit about you tell you – or suffer the consequences.

The Knicks would ride a seven game winning streak, before finally experiencing defeat at the hands of the New Orleans Hornets, who collapsed on Lin with clever team defense and crowding the guard whenever he tried to penetrate. The Miami Heat frustrated Lin even more, constantly harassing him into making costly mistakes and forcing the worse game of his young career.

In the offseason, Lin was awarded a $29 million contract by the Houston Rockets.  Although Jeremy Lin will be an All-Star (since everyone in China will be voting for him), he has not duplicated the greatness of that magical week as New York Knick when he averaged 22 pts and 8 assists, as teams are now scouting him very seriously.  As Lin himself stated, "I'm not looking to re-create what happened in New York.  I want to be a consistent player. I want to get better. I don't know what my potential is. I don't know if I can play better than that one-week stretch. But I'm going to find out to see how close I can get."




Although Mike D'Antoni, his coach in New York that week, recently phrased it even better: “He’s not Linsanity... He’s a very good point guard in a tough league."

REVERSAL


Just as you analyze your opponent, realize that the same is likely being done to you. Constantly change your game to avoid being predictable – or feign Jeremy Lin-like “unscoutability”. And remember that your opponents are the same way. They’re not machines, but constantly mutating, adapting to what you are doing, learning from your successes and their mistakes. As Robert Greene warns, “your beaten opponent today may be wiser tomorrow”.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

COFFEE WITH SATAN: THE DEVIL'S FAVORITE HOLIDAY


I caught up to our friend, Satan, before the holidays to elaborate on the devil's favorite holiday of all time, Thanksgiving.  We had skirted on the subject before, but this was a conversation I definitely wanted to elaborate on.  We met at the Starbucks in front of Costco's on Washington Blvd.



N: Why is "Thanksgiving" your favorite Holiday again?

S: We're talking about the biggest fucking banquet of the year - and who doesn't like that?

N: American Indians.

S: If you want to be a party pooper, sure.

N: So, did you invent "Thanksgiving"?

S: What do you think?

N: Okay, why did you invent "Thanksgiving"?

S: What is a Holiday, bro?

N: A day off?  A mini-vacation?

S: Sure, on the surface.  That is the exchange that I make with the public, generally.  In exchange for a day or some days off, I ask them to celebrate said day with whatever I wish.  If you offer lots of food - that is, a titanic meal that requires three stomachs  - they will celebrate what you give them.

N: And in the case of "Thanksgiving", what are we actually celebrating?



S: Okay, this is why this holiday is soooo awesome.  Let's say you allowed a group of homeless people into your house tonight.

N: Okay.

S: You feel bad for them.  So, you let them eat dinner with you and your family.

N: Hmmm...

S: Then, you go to sleep...

N: Yes...

S: Then, they fucking rape your wife, choke your mother, kill your father, molest your kids, rip your dog... and make you watch... and then, they kick out of your house...

N: Okay.

S: But, it's not over yet.  Every year, no matter where you live, where you go, you know these people who are in your house are celebrating that lovely day - and not only that - every house in the country is celebrating that day.  The day you expressed generosity and they raped your family is a national holiday.  Voila!

N: You're reffering to the Pilgrims.

S: Money, there weren't Pilgrims at the time.  They weren't buckles or black hats then.  That shit we put in later.  You have to hand it to me.

N: Okay, let me play devil's advocate here.  Isn't there a history of giving thanks that goes back hundreds of years...

S: Sure.  And this is why I'm a genius and J.C. let's me run things down here.  This is the only holiday where the people that were "raped" are at the butt of the joke.  Families have the most amazing meal of the year, celebrate their togetherness when the history of this violent act demolished millions of families... and in fact, a whole nation - and that is why it would be like Adolph Hitler dancing on concentration camps.

N: Why did you need a holiday celebrating the destruction of the American Indian.  I mean, I know you're evil, but what is the purpose behind it?

S: The function - and there are many parts to this - is for the US to continue its practice guilt-free.  At the back of people's mind, if coming to this country and taking it from some backward people can be a holiday, then why not keep doing it?  People, by eating, drinking and celebrating with loved ones, are unconsciously telling themselves it's okay.

N: You mean, colonization?  We still do it?

S: Sure, in your modern history... Puerto Rico, Israel, Hawaii, The Virgin Ilsands and under the guise of Democracy, Iraq, Pakistan for sure... really, the Middle East is a place you guys would like to have.

N: And Thanksgiving is an outlet for that?

S: Yes, the biggest banquet of the year - an awesome meal that features every food group, drink, companionship, friendship and family members you never heard of - is the door to more colonization.   You know, as an American, you probably rarely stop and think what others may think of what you're doing - and if I'm doing my job, you never will.  Nobody wants to read what I'm saying.  It's just going to ruin their appetite, which is awesome and just the way I designed things.

N: So, to sum this up "Thanksgiving" is the public support of the practice of colonization?

S: Sure, but to your credit, my team knew we needed an awesome meal to do this.  This meal had to be killer.  And for that, we need the biggest, fattest fucking bird imaginable.  I wanted giraffe, but my team  convinced me otherwise.  And they were right.

N: How would giraffes fit on a dinner table?

S: I thought the beast could be cut into pieces and I had this whole thing about how a whole neighborhood could chase it and slaughter it together... anyway, it was, they were right, I went too far with that.  I'm saving that for another thing.

N: Oh.

S: And so, the wild turkey was the chosen fatass, despite Benjamin Franklin's insistence.  You know, Benny wanted wild turkeys on the American Flag at one point?

N: Did he really?

S: I don't know.  Who cares?

N: Alright, great, well, I suppose you're going to eat well tomorrow.

S: Fuck yea.  I'm eating all that shit.  Turkey, mashed potatoes, pie, I want thousands of calories in me and every fucking American in this country.  Happy Thanksgiving!  And oh,  don't miss Black Friday. You'll need the exercise.


Sunday, November 18, 2012

33 STRATEGIES OF SPORTS: THE COUNTER ATTACK STRATEGY



Watching someone small beat someone big is one of the most thrilling elements of a sports competition. Nate Robinson and Doug Flutie’s popularities can be attributed to their tininess. They’re very charismatic people — but like actors, we project ourselves onto athletes, as they remind us that small doesn’t mean weak.

But even being weak is a powerful tool. You have used this strategy yourself when you were child, pretending to be sick to avoid going to school. We live in a passive aggressive world. In fact, in war, feigning weakness is the most popular strategy. Why? Because it has worked for thousands of years.

Welcome back to “The 33 Strategies of Sports”, a concoction of Robert Greene’s wonderful pamphlet, “The 33 Strategies of War” and sports history.   This time:

THE COUNTER ATTACK STRATEGY





In 1990, a new young tennis star had emerged in the world of tennis. His name was Andre Agassi. Agassi had reached his first Grand Slam Finals, the 1990 French Open against a washed up Andres Gomez. Agassi was heavily favored — it was his time. But Gomez upset the young man. The French clay courts slowed down young Agassi’s aggressive attacks. Oh well, Agassi would have many more opportunities to conquer France. His fashion sense and unorthodox style was a Nielsen Rating wet dream. The guy made tennis cool again. He was a star and even married Brooke Shields of “The Blue Lagoon”. Ultimately, he managed to win every Grand Slam except for the French Open (only four other players in history won all four Grand Slams). But injuries and a Hollywood lifestyle wrecked him.



By 1997, Agassi divorced Brooke Shields and got hooked on Crystal Meth — his ranking fell to #141. He would soon turn 30, senior citizen status for a sport dominated by teenagers. He failed to win a Grand Slam in years (usually losing in the first round). He was done. He would later say, “decisions, especially bad ones, create their own kind of momentum, and momentum can be a real bitch to stop, as every athlete knows. Even when we vow to change, even when we sorrow and atone for our mistakes, the momentum of our past keeps carrying us down the wrong road. Momentum rules the world”.

In 1998, Agassi played in the minor leagues of tennis for a while — the “Challenger” tournaments – and slowly rose in ranks. After that humiliation, he returned to the scene of his career’s biggest disappointment, the French Open. He was not expected to make a dent, but his name was still enough of a draw. Barely. Pete Sampras, now the face of tennis, was at his peak — he was expected to win his first French Open. But Sampras unexpectedly lost in the second round to Andriy Medvedev, a 24-year-old Ukrainian with a bullet serve.

Meanwhile, Agassi was having trouble of his own against 21-year-old Arnaud Clement. Agassi was down two sets to love (in tennis parlance, this means “near death”). But Agassi managed to put together an amazing come back and advance. Afterwards, he managed to dominate every match all the way to the finals — where he would face Medvedev, the guy who thrashed Sampras. What a great comeback story this would be for Agassi, a guy who ranked 141 only a year ago.



The only thing was, Medvedev was ranked even lower than Agassi. In fact, the Ukrainian was the lowest ranking player to ever reach the French Open. No one expected him here. Medvedev saw this match as redemption too. He was hungry, young and had a serve you could barely see on a TV screen. Two sets into the French Open Finals, Medvedev proved how much hungrier. He executed a bloodbath on Agassi, beating his older and smaller opponent, 6-1, 6-2. One more and it was death.
Agassi was, as he would say later, “embarrassed”. He fought with everything he had to tie the next set, 4-4. But did the 29-year-old have enough left to recover from another two sets to love? In such a tie, the winner statistically won the next match, making this tiebreaker crucial. Agassi would go up, 30-15… then, the bottom fell. He missed his next serve. And his next. Double fault. 30-30. Agassi missed his next. And next one. 30-40. Agassi missed another serve. “I’ve now missed five straight serves,” Agassi explained, “I’m falling apart…”

“… Medvedev knows my psyche is in tatters after missing five serves in a row. He’s guessing that I won’t have the stomach to be aggressive. He expects a nice soft kick-serve. He steps up, well inside the baseline, sending me a message that he anticipates a softie, and he’s going to ram it down my throat. He wears a look on his face that unmistakably says: Go ahead, bitch. Be aggressive. I dare you. This moment is the crucial test for both of us. This is the turning point in the match, perhaps in both of our lives. It’s a test of wills, of heart, of manhood. I toss the ball into the air and refuse to back down. Contrary to Medvedev’s expectations, I serve hard and aggressive to his backhand. I go on to hold serve”.



Agassi would win the set and the next two, orchestrating the most formidable comeback in French Open history, becoming only one of five tennis players to win all four Grand Slams. 1999 proved to be only the beginning of Agassi’s resurgence. He would also win the US Open and by the end of the year, rank #1, jumping 140 ranks in a single year.

INTERPRETATION


Andre Agassi is considered the best serve returner in the history of the game. He once returned a 138 mph serve. But why exhaust himself against such an aggressive opponent like Medvedev? He gains two things by retreating. 1) Medvedev thinks he has an easy victory. 2) Agassi breaks down Medvedev’s strategy in his mind for later use. By the fourth set, Medvedev is too tired and shocked that he’s still playing. At this point, Agassi counters every serve, cracking Medvedev’s confidence. By the fifth set, Medvedev concedes and Agassi defeats him. In short, Agassi uses Medvedev’s energy against him, Jiu-jitsu style.


KEYS TO ENGAGEMENT


There’s a saying in sports. Defense wins championships. There are two reasons for this. It takes less energy to defend something than to chase it. Unlike tennis, reality is not concentrated to a couple hours. Time is on your side. You too can play “defense” in real life by developing one skill. PATIENCE. If you can develop the nerve for the “wait and see” approach, you will see opportunities open up in epic proportions. You may not even have to do anything as your opponent shoots themselves in the foot.
The next time you have an argument with someone, try this. Don’t scream. Don’t shout. Hold the anger inside you. And LISTEN to as much as they want to say. No matter how insulting. When they’re done, counter argue. You may even find that counter argument may be unnecessary and the situation not as serious as you originally thought.

The first half of Agassi’s career was a disappointment because he was too aggressive. He won Grand Slams but certainly could have won more, had he not tried to kill the ball with his racquet. It was not until he hired trainer Brad Gilbert that his style changed. Gilbert explained to him:  “You try to hit a winner on every ball, when just being steady, consistent, meat and potatoes, would be enough to win ninety percent of the time. Quit going for the knockout. All you have to be is solid. Singles, doubles, move the chains forward. Stop thinking about yourself, and your own game, and remember that the guy on the other side of the net has weaknesses. Attack his weaknesses. You don’t have to be the best in the world every time you go out there. You just have to be better than one guy. Instead of YOU succeeding, make HIM fail. Better yet, LET him fail”.

Agassi, like all great sports minds such as Bill Bellichick, Michael Jordan and Phil Jackson, made an entire career out of “letting” his opponents fail. He was frequently down two sets, facing death. His opponents always took the bait, thinking victory was in the bag. Only to watch Agassi counter every move — moves that had worked the entire match until now. Agassi rode this strategy as far as he could, ranking in the top 20 for the rest of his career, which ended at the ripe old age of 36.

REVERSAL



You cannot always apply “counter strategy”. In 2005, a 35-year-old Agassi faced Roger Federer in the US Open Finals. Federer took the first set and watched as Agassi took the second, and then the lead in the third. Agassi did not have much left in him and would have been better served to start stronger earlier. Federer did not take the bait and won the remainder of the sets. Sometimes, especially when time isn’t on your side, it’s better to start aggressive.

Friday, November 16, 2012

33 STRATEGIES OF SPORTS: THE DEATH GROUND STRATEGY



“No one gives a fuck about me.”
- Mike Tyson




A sporting event has a limited amount of time. A basketball game has 48 minutes. A football game, 60 minutes. A boxing match, 12 rounds at 3 minutes a piece. Your life? You don’t know. So, you have no sense or urgency — and great athletes have a sense of urgency. The best ones give 100% at all times, a trait we deeply admire. A trait we have access to but normally don’t tap into unless we experience a life or death experience - or given 6 months to live. Because people with limited time spend it very wisely. But the truth is, we all have limited time.


Since our life is not broken down into four quarters, we easily lose track of that reality and literally buy the fantasy that we will live forever. Today’s world teaches us that our time is limitless. We will eventually get to that project that has meaning for us. In the meantime, we’ll watch TV, surf the internet, smoke some weed. Why not? You will be young forever. The people on TV tell you so. Look at the actors. Look at the commercials. That’s you. Endless vistas of time.

So stick with the job you hate, the bad relationship you’re in, your avoidance of any type of confrontation. Because you will probably never die — or will you?  Welcome back to another lesson from Robert Greene's "The 33 Strategies of War".

“I’ll fight any man, any animal, if Jesus were here I’d fight him  too.”  
Mike Tyson


THE NO RETURN TACTIC





As a child, Michael Gerard Tyson was frequently ridiculed because of his funny, high-pitched voice (he sounded like Yoda with a lisp). His father left his family when he was two. In the crime infested community of Brownsville, New York, Tyson developed a love of pigeons, the only creature he could relate to. One day, a very large kid ripped the head off his favorite pigeon. Tyson fought for the first time — and then fought everyone else in the neighborhood. By the time he was 13, Tyson was arrested 38 times. By the time he was 16, his mother was dead.

This was a world where death awaited you right around the corner. When Tyson was sent to reform school, Tryon School for Boys in Johnstown, New York, it was assumed this boy would be dead by 21 — and for young Tyson, it certainly was his fate, like he was on borrowed time. But the juvenile detention counselor, Bobby Stewart (a former boxer), noticed that the kid with the funny voice could fight. This led to Tyson’s first boxing manager Cus D’Amato, who had trained World Champion Floyd Patterson. D’Amato saw beyond the cartoonish voice and tiny build. Tyson was only 5"10, his reach 71" and he was barely above 200 lbs. But there was something ferocious about this kid. His right hook was like a battering ram. His fists were vengeful like he was fighting death itself. But there was another problem. Tyson had problems breathing. He would get exhausted too quickly. But D’Amato was not getting any younger himself. He was an old man. Finding a fighter with this punching power was unheard of. But could the kid last 8 rounds in a heavyweight fight?

They would find out on March 6, 1985, when Tyson made his professional debut in Albany, New York against Hector Mercedes. No one knew much about Tyson. Hector fought the 18 year old like he would any fighter. Until he absorbed the first hit and hugged the young man almost immediately. The problem was, because Tyson was shorter, his short arms would allow him to continue to beating his opponent even while being hugged. Tyson never stopped punching. And hardly a minute passed when Hector went down. Hector had never been beaten like that before. Like baseball bats were swung at his face and body. He just wanted the match to end.



This only confirmed what D’Amato suspected. With that right hook, Tyson wouldn’t need 8, 12 or 13 rounds. Tyson’s punches were so traumatic, his opponents would go into shock upon first contact. And he was right. Tyson won 26 of his first 28 matches by KO or TKO, dismantling opponents faster than you can take out the trash. But did the man-boy have enough to be a champion?

Cus D’Amato would die before finding out. On November 22, 1986, Tyson faced WBC Heavyweight Champion Trevor Berbick, the man who retired the great Muhammad Ali. Berbick was 6 ft. 2 1/2 and has 78" reach, 7 inches longer than Tyson. This would be the first time Tyson would fight an opponent in a higher league. Berbick was bigger and vowed to keep Tyson in the middle of the ring and push Tyson back (Tyson already had a reputation of pushing his opponents against the ropes, throwing them off balance, then knocking out him out savagely). Berbick was certain his uppercuts would keep Tyson back and when the match began, he kept his word… for about 90 seconds. He was knocked down in the second round. Three times.



D’Amato was right. He had posthumously trained the youngest heavyweight champion in boxing history. 20 years and 4 months old. He could not even buy a beer, but he could take down some of the world’s most feared men flat on their face within seconds.

Now facing quality opponents, Tyson could not knock out opponents with as much ease, but his camp discovered a new weapon. Intimidation. Tyson would use this new tactic to beat James Smith by unanimous decision on March 7, 1987 in Las Vegas and Pinklon Thomas that May with a knockout in the 6th round, becoming the first heavyweight to own all three belts — WBA, WBC, and IBF.
But now, Tyson would suddenly face his greatest challenge on June 27, 1988. Michael Spinks, the man who dueled the legendary Larry Holmes for 15 rounds in 1985, handing him his first defeat (Holmes was one victory away from tying Rocky Marciano’s record of 49-0). Spinks was the first Light Heavyweight ever to win a Heavyweight Title. To prove his toughness, Spinks fought a rematch with Holmes and once again beat defeated him a year later.

Spinks was seasoned, smart, quick and could make Tyson fight 15 Rounds. He could force Tyson into exhausting himself chasing Spinks around the ring, and then attack when Tyson got tired — like Ali did with Foreman in Africa. Spinks was 31-0, 21 by knockout and had never been knocked down in 131 fights (100 as an amateur). He could take Iron Mike Tyson.

There was tremendous hype.  Pay-Per-View was charging $49.95 a pop. It was like a holiday. People gathered together with family and friends they had not seen. Tyson would finally meet a challenger who could match his speed and wits, and who had the experience to tune out his intimidation tactics. The entire world was watching. This would be a titanic battle of styles (and the richest fight in boxing history at the time).



The fight lasted 91 seconds. The KO would be the only time Spinks had experienced such humiliation (and would be his last). But it was not Tyson’s punches that took him down — it appeared like Tyson could not even connect against Spinks’ jaw or side of his head. Spinks looked like he shit his shorts before the bell even rang. He was running away from Tyson most of the times. But Tyson ran faster. Although his punches failed to completely connect against Spinks’ head, the grazing was enough for Spinks to realize he was profoundly in over his head — and he went down at his own will. Twice. Intact physically. But broken mentally.



Mike Tyson had beaten Michael Spinks without even really hitting him. He did it with psychology. Now, you had to get by Tyson’s blitzkrieg of terror before even dealing with his devastating right hook. All from an undersized fighter with a funny voice who could not breath correctly — and who was pronounced dead by adulthood.



“Everyone has a plan ’till they get punched in the mouth”
- Mike Tyson


INTERPRETATION


Spinks and Berbick figured they had 13 Rounds to beat Mike Tyson. After all, they were champions - they had beaten Ali and Holmes. If they lost one round, or even two, they could recover the next one. And if not that one, the next. Eventually, they could wear their opponent down and defeat him — they had 13 rounds to do it. Tyson did not have this luxury. He could not breath correctly and had to figure out a way to take his opponents’ heads off now. He could not see past round 5. Or even round 1.

We frequently see this desperation in sports. A team falls behind and is down 15 points, then fights like hell to even the score at the end. The question is, they always had the ability to fight like hell, why did they wait until they were behind? We usually do this, thinking we have all the time in the world. But then we are too far behind and it is too late to succeed.

Mike Tyson never waited. His plan was to take down his opponent as soon as the bell rang. Period. This was the only way he could become the champion he was. Necessity. The mother of all invention.

Here Tyson teaches us a valuable lesson. We have plenty of safety nets in our lives. A comfortable job we don’t necessarily like. A stale relationship that is good enough for now. A parent that bails us out every time we need it. These safety nets are unhealthy — precisely what’s keeping you from getting what you want. Time can be your friend or your enemy.

As Spinks and Berbick learned, 13 rounds is not a promise to everyone. You are running out of time as you read this sentence.  And before you know it, you too will face a devastating knock out. Hopefully, when you get back on your feet, you will live to face another battle and not wait so long to attack. It’s your choice, you can be beaten by Mike Tyson, or you can be Mike Tyson — fight with Tyson’s desperation and you will become someone to be reckoned with, as opposed to someone burns time like it’s garbage. Just like you wouldn’t take all the money you have and throw it in a fire, you should not do the same thing with time. And time, as the saying goes, is money.   But in reality, time is more than money.  Money can always be made. Time can never be retrieved.

“God lets everything happen for a reason. It’s all a learning process, and you have to go from one level to another.”
- Mike Tyson


KEYS TO ENGAGEMENT


Think about this. Every time you made for a drastic change in your life, it was because an event that forced your hand.  The change was mental.  And you always have this power to enlarge yourself. You don’t have to wait until it’s necessary. Athletes, the ones we admire anyway, can trigger this emotion any time they need to.



Mike Tyson was small, had a short reach, but fought with a desperate edge no one wanted to face. He had to succeed as a boxer or face life in the streets. Every punch was thrown like his last. Every hit had a sense of finality, like a hammer that drives a nail into the wall with one strike. All over history, there is an example of a genius with a shortcoming — Beethoven was deaf. Bruce Lee had a leg that was shorter than other.  Stephen Hawking is in a wheelchair and can’t move a muscle in his body. He was told he would be dead 30 years ago.

These guys understood that death is right around the corner.  You can go at any time for millions of reasons. And when you do, are you going to regret what you never even tried or did half-assed?

Sun Tzu, the author of “The Art of War” spoke of a death-ground, positioning armies against a trapped area and forcing them to get out alive. Sun Tzu understood that people didn’t change unless they had to. These armies would fight with a desperate edge and will themselves to victory, thereby proving that human beings had that “edge” inside them, waiting to be unlocked.

You tossed your “desperate edge” in a safe years ago, saving it in case you may one day need it. But suddenly, you forgot the combination. The following five tactics may be one of the combinations you’re looking for. If you can unlock that “edge”, you will gain the psychological power that Mike Tyson once had and conquer the festering projects in your life.

1) Stake everything on a single throw. You have too many projects in your life. Your mind is pulled eight different directions. As Mike Tyson demonstrated, you don’t really have 13 rounds. Place all your energy on one project and go for that knock out punch out now. And watch your project flourish.

2) Act before you are ready. Mike Tyson was frequently seen advancing towards his opponent before the bell rang. Without a deadline or outside pressure, you become lazy and shiftless in your project. You over think everything and take way too much time before you even begin. If you move before being totally prepared, you will live on your instincts and use your resources more wisely — and breathe life into your project.

3) Enter uncharted waters. Tyson lost his pigeon, his mom and his manager. The loss of these relationships forced him to become “the baddest man alive”. Abandon the relationships that hold you back, a stale relationship, a comfortable job, etc. You want strength and evolution, not weakness.  Drop what does not contribute to your evolution.

4) Make it you against the world. Even at the decline of his career, Tyson continued to insult his opponents before he even got into the ring. He famously promised to eat Lennox Lewis’ heart and feed it to his children. His tactic was simple. He wanted to infuriate his enemy. This would guarantee he would give everything in the ring. You have done everything half-assed for too long. If you insult those who stand in your way, you will be against a wall — and you will fight like hell to get out.

5) Keep yourself restless and unsatisfied. Most people are like the walking dead, avoiding personal challenges and confrontations, living a comfortable life that seems eternal. They do not challenge themselves. They grow bored with life and refuse risk at all cost. Millions of these people lived through Iron Mike Tyson. Mike’s punches waited for no one. They didn’t waste time. They confronted their opponents mentally before the fight and physically when the bell rang. The most feared fighters were petrified of facing the man with the funny voice. Tyson brought death-ground psychologically and physically into millions of homes. His fan based grew into millions because they secretly wished they could apply this power into their own lives — living through Tyson. Adrenaline comes with risk. Malaise comes with safety. Risk is what makes life exciting. You cannot appreciate your life unless you risk it on some level. If you dodge death, even better, you will appreciate the time you have even more.






REVERSAL


Robert Greene says: “if the feeling of having nothing to lose can propel you forward, you must avoid others in this position”. When Mike Tyson became wealthy and powerful, he faced an opponent named James Buster Douglas, a 42-1 underdog journeyman. Douglas’ mother died 23 days before the fight, likely the biggest of Douglas’ career. Douglas was supposed to be lion food for Tyson. But Douglas had nothing to lose and put everything into the ring. He fought an inspired and desperate match, knocking out Tyson in the 10th round. Avoid facing a desperate person with nothing to lose at all cost.

“Fear is your best friend or your worst enemy. It’s like fire. If you can control it, it can cook for you; it can heat your house. If you can’t control it, it will burn everything around you and destroy you. If you can control your fear, it makes you more alert, like a deer coming across the lawn.” 
– Mike Tyson