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Name: Marçao Yamaguchi
Interests: Fighting, MMA (Mixed Martial Arts), Muay Thai, Shootfighting, Brasilian Jiu-Jitsu, Hawaiian Kempo, Systema, Cagefighting, Conditioning, Trail Running, Mountain Climbing, Strength/ Endurance/ Agility Training, Nutrition, Shooting, Wilderness Survival, Navigation, Tracking, Hunting, Free Diving, Surfing, Snowboarding, Auto & Motorcycle Racing, History, Psychology, Sociology, Anthropology, Philosophy, Carpentry & Woodworking, Cooking, Singing, Dancing, Photography, World Domination.
Expertise: Unconventional Warfare, Strategy, Tactics.
Message: message meEmail: email me
Member Since:
3/28/2006
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| 黒田武士 - (Kuroda Bushi)
I've just had the most difficult two weeks of my entire life.
Now I'd like to have a drink.
Tonight's not a night for scotch though. Nor is this the kind of night where I want to share a bottle of wine with a beautiful woman.
No, tonight's the kind of night I want to spend with Toshiro. Sitting in his furo
in the dark, the water steaming hot with the scent of hot stone and
moist wood wafting into our noses. Looking up through the clearing in
the tree branches at the night sky; at the smoke and steam dissolving
into the cool air.
Drunk on hot, sweet sake after a satisfying dinner of honmaguro o-toro sashimi and sushi-gohan, chirashi-style. Tasting that rich, fatty tuna melting on my tongue and washing it down with sake
so clean it reminds me of cherry blossoms on fresh snow. The two of us,
sitting chest-deep in the still, intoxicating water... singing the
songs that old Japanese men would sing for three hundred generations
past.
酒は飲め飲め 飲むならば
日の本一の この槍を
飲みとるほどに飲むならば
これぞまことの黒田武士
We would sing in our wavering, drunken voices above the steam. We would sing one of my favorites... the story of the Kuroda Bushi, accompanied by the koto playing in our heads. And we would drink again. Cold, dry junmai daiginjo on my lips. Running down my chin, down my neck, down my chest, and into the hot water below.
峰のあらしか 松風か
たずぬる人の琴の音か
駒引きとめて立寄れば
爪音高き想夫恋
Letting my arms fall back against wood beams a hundred years old, and
cold polished stone a thousand years older. Breathing in the steam.
Listening to my best friend's deep voice rumble from within his
barrelled chest; the songs of duty, honor and the love of a woman.
I would drink.
And he would drink.
And we would forget the terrible things of this modern world.
| | |
| In the chill of the early morning darkness, as I sit upon
the sand with the ocean barely stroking the face of the shore, memories
that have never been drift in my mind behind closed eyes.
I feel the cold sand beneath me.
In my mind, I open my eyes.
I'm home.
Endless plains of sand and rock -- wind-torn columns of stone rising
thousands of feet to the sky in twisted, warped monoliths of banded
color. Skies, cloudless and blue. Mountains, clear and
close, striking out from the barren landscape, dominating my world in
every direction and enclosing the dusty plateau upon which I sit.
I was called Khagatai.
I was master of the hunt.
My eyes, narrow and sharp -- able to see in the dark far better and
able to see distances far beyond any other man; and protected from the
harsh sun and sand by their thin apertures. My shoulders, thick
and broad with powerful arms -- I can draw a bow with immense power and
loose an arrow with devastating accuracy. And I can do it at full
gallop.
I am a horseman. My legs, bred over a thousand
generations to be the exact length and breadth to grip the sides of a
horse and remain mounted in the thick of the hunt or in the fury of
war. My torso, long and flexible, allows me to track and fire at
any angle, and yet be able to reach down and spear or grab any man or
beast I have taken down while still remaining mounted and moving.
I am a mesomorph.
I am a warrior of the Altaic highland. At a commanding six feet
tall and lean and light enough to be quick and lethal from
horseback. Muscular and thick enough to bring a tremendous amount
of damage from a single blow. My mind intuitively calculates
indirect fire angles and compensates for the movement of my
mount. I can outmaneuver, outflank, and outshoot and outfight any
man or beast.
The world has changed in two-thousand years, but I have not.
I am master of the hunt.
| | |
| Chivalry is not dead.
I couldn't see Gabriel's lips moving, but I could hear his voice as he
stood, back to me, facing the priest and the woman who would
momentarily be his wife. I couldn't see his face, but I could see the scar under his left ear
from where a bullet that nearly killed him had struck him years
ago. I couldn't know his eyes, but I knew the purity of the Chivalrous
self-sacrifice and commitment he was swearing into the ring he was
putting on his wife's finger.
"...until death do us part." I heard him say.
I nodded silently, standing at attention behind Gabriel as he faced the
woman he giving his life to. Gabriel, the only man I knew who I
truly felt was a real modern-day Chevalier.
If he were born seven hundred years ago, he would be right at home in
full plate armor with his two-handed sword mounted on a warhorse riding
off to war out of his castle -- and not because of a silly
fantasy; but because he truly embodied what it meant to be Chevalier.
Gabriel was a Lord and Master
of his house. A powerful man, who men followed not because he
demanded allegiance, but because he was their leader... he was their King.
A man of nobility, not by birthright but by the right of his Noble
Mind. Gabriel was a former Special Operator medic gone to Medical
School to end up as a Trauma Surgeon. A man who earned the
respect of his fellow man and the love
of his women by his actions and the qualities of his life.
Gabriel was Chevalier.
And only Chevalier can show true Chivalry.
*****
There's
a difference between a display of Chivalry and just being nice, or
courteous. And like it or not, the truth is that the difference
is in the man who is displaying the act.
Why do women like nice guys?
No, not the NiceGuy™ I make fun of -- the guys who are truly, genuinely
nice?
Women
like nice guys because they exhibit signs of gentlemanly conduct,
because it shows that they have a good upbringing and because of their
good upbringing, their possible children with this nice guy will have a
good upbringing too. Women like nice guys because they treat
women well, and genuinely care about them and their well-being.
At this point, they are great guys and are gentlemen, but not Chevalier. Their behavior
is gentlemanly, but not Chivalrous.
There's something missing.
Let's look at these three scenarios, and the
differences in the level of Chivalry when the man engaging in the
scenario is changed but the behavior remains the same.
Scenario 1:
You are walking up to a door. You are with a guy who is nice, who
worships you, constantly calls you, always runs ahead to open the door
for you. He always walks slightly behind you. You like him,
but he's insecure, very needy, emotionally unstable, clingy, and has
self-esteem problems. You were with him once, when some guys were
calling you obscene names, and he did nothing. Like always, he
runs ahead and opens the door for you because he feels like he needs to
in order for you to like him.
Scenario 2:
You are walking up to a door. You are with a guy friend who you
are hanging out with. You've been friends for a very long
time. He's a great guy, but he's just a regular joe that you're
not really attracted to for whatever reason. There's nothing
wrong with him -- he's a good friend, he's just not your type.
You're laughing and talking, and when you two get to the door, he opens
the door for you.
Scenario 3:
You
are walking up to a door, alone. Inside the door, you see a
tall, muscular, handsome, well-dressed man. He is
accompanied by four bodyguards and one of the most beautiful women
you've ever seen. You recognize him as being one of the city's
most eligible bachelor's from your local metropolitan news
magazine -- a man who came from a childhood of nothing but earned his
way to the top as a business executive. He reaches the door at
the same time as you do.
He looks at you, smiles, and holds the door open for you as he yields
and defers to you.
Looking at the first scenario, we see that there is no value in his
opening the door. There is absolutely no Chivalry here. He
doesn't open the door because he respects you, he opens the door
because he worships you. He opens the door because he feels it's
what he needs to do in order to have you continue liking him. He
serves you because he believes that he is beneath you. He's not a
real man -- he may as well be your servant. His act of opening
the door for you is empty. It's a nice gesture, and one to be
appreciated, but not one that holds value.
Looking at the second scenario, we see that there is value in his
opening the door. He respects you as his equal, regardless of the
fact that he is not in a relationship with you. He opens the door
for you because he respects you, and in respecting you, wishes to show
his respect for you by opening the door for you. This is the kind
of guy that is worthwhile -- because he has enough in himself to offer
and lay down by opening the door for you.
Looking at the third scenario, we see that there is extreme value in
his opening the door. This is not a man who needs to open doors
for you. This is a man who has doors opened for him by people who
call him 'sir', usually preceded by 'yes' and followed by 'anything you
want'. This is a man who really doesn't need to respect you, or
show you any kind of courtesy at all, but who chooses to do so anyway
-- he comes from a position of power, and he symbolically bows down to
you, yields to you and defers to you because you are a lady worthy of
his deference in his immediate proximity.
Women like nice guys because nice guys demonstrate behavior that reminds them of Chivalry -- the behavior of Chevalier.
But there is little or no power behind the behavior of a guy who is just nice. The behavior is nice, and
is appreciated, but the kind of power that makes a women want a man -- the power that comes with true Chivalry is
not there.
*****
Like it or not, women are attracted to Chivalry -- to the Chevalier... the Knight.
Main Entry: chiv·al·ry 
Pronunciation: 'shi-v&l-rE
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural -ries
Etymology: Middle English chivalrie, from Middle French chevalerie, from chevalier knight -- more at CHEVALIER
1 : mounted men-at-arms
2 archaic a : martial valor b : knightly skill
3 : gallant or distinguished gentlemen
4 : the system, spirit, or customs of medieval knighthood
5 : the qualities of the ideal knight : chivalrous conduct
|
 |
Historically, the Chevalier... the Knight was the lowest qualifying nobility in a line
that led straight to the King. The successful Knight owned land
and owned the serfs that worked the land. The successful Knight
wielded political and social power. The successful Knight was
well-trained in war and was strong, confident and aggressive -- but
lived his life by a code of conduct; one to serve and protect those he
loved and owed his fealty to.
There was power behind a Knight's Chivalry.
Stand to the right of your lady, so your sword hand is free to engage
one who would insult her honor; and so your free hand can sweep her
backwards as you step forward to defend her, sword drawn.
This is the reason a modern gentleman stands to the right of a woman.
When a Chivalric Knight displays courtly behavior to you, he respects you.
He is saying, I am a Knight and I am the Lord of my land and the Master
of my house -- and I defer and yield to you because I respect you...
because under my hand, I serve and protect you.
In the modern world, the Chevalier are rare. Let us look at the definition of Chivalrous.
Main Entry: chiv·al·rous
Pronunciation: 'shi-v&l-r&s
Function: adjective
1 : VALIANT
2 : of, relating to, or characteristic of chivalry and knight-errantry
3 a : marked by honor, generosity, and courtesy b : marked by gracious courtesy and high-minded consideration especially to women
And following now, at the definition of Valiant.
Main Entry: 1val·iant
Pronunciation: 'val-y&nt
Function: adjective
Etymology: Middle English valiaunt, from Middle French vaillant, from Old French, from present participle of valoir to be of worth, from Latin valEre to be strong -- more at WIELD
1 : possessing or acting with bravery or boldness : COURAGEOUS <valiant soldiers>
2 : marked by, exhibiting, or carried out with courage or determination : HEROIC <valiant feats>
Women
wonder why they are attracted to the
aggressive, confident, warrior-type BadBoys™ who treat them nice.
Believe it or not, a woman's attraction to both of these guys stem from
the same root attraction.
This is because the aggressive, confident, warrior-type reminds women
of the external characteristics of the Chevalier, and the nice, courtly
behavior reminds them of the internal characteristics of the
Chevalier.
Women want the Chevalier.
A Chevalier is not only a nice guy, but he is Valiant. He is Courageous -- even look at the french root Coeur, meaning heart... he is full of Heart.
He is Heroic. He possesses and acts with bravery; and is marked
by and is exhibited by Determination.
He is known for Honor,
Generosity and Courtesy. But when it's time for war, whether to
defend his woman, his home, his livelihood, or his honor -- he is known
for Martial prowess and Valor; for Gallantry, and his willingness to
fight to the end.
Does this sound familiar? The True Alpha is a Chevalier.
There's nothing wrong with being a nice guy doing nice things for a
woman you care about -- especially if you view her as your equal and
you respectfully treat her as your equal. Nice guys are great guys.
But in order to be Chivalrous... in order to practice true Chivalry, you must be Chevalier.
You must be of that kind of strength of internal quality. It doesn't
require nobility of birthright -- what it does require is the Noble Mind. Once you have the Noble Mind, you will begin to walk the path of the True Alpha -- the True Chevalier.
It doesn't matter what you do, whether you are a CEO or a Surgeon or a
powerful Attorney, or even if you're a really good Carpenter or Surfboard shaper. Because you have the Noble Mind, you strive to be the best you can be in whatever pursuit you choose. Because you have the Noble Mind, you are already successful and you will naturally be driven to success in whatever you do.
Success is not measured in terms of monetary wealth or the amount of women you have in your life.
Success is measured by Courage -- your strength of Coeur,
of Heart. Success is measured by Determination -- your strength
of Mind in staying your course. Success is measured by Martial
prowess -- your strength of your body against the world. Success
is measured by Heroism -- your strength of Soul.
You, man of the Noble Mind. You, man of Modern Nobility.
You, are the Modern Chevalier.
| | |
| The kid next door is a pussy.
I spend the work
week in a duplex in downtown, within walking distance of the Financial
District. I moved into this unit recently, and am just beginning
to get to know my neighbors here in town. The neighbor I share a
common wall with in the duplex is a forty year old Japanese woman with
a thirteen year old son.
By the time somebody is thirteen years
old, they should know their gender role or at least should be headed in
the right direction. I have no problems with a five year old boy
not knowing what it is to be male; but a thirteen year old
should. In fact, an eight year old should.
This thirteen year old, I have heard crying like a little girl on many
occasions. One morning I woke up to the sound of him literally
crying like a six year old girl throwing a temper tantrum because he
didn't want to go to school. A few days ago, I heard him come
home and upon finding that he didn't have the key and his mother wasn't
home, started pounding on the door and crying at the top of his
lungs. And it wasn't like he couldn't just go to his friend's
house until his mother came home like every other thirteen year old boy
would do.
Suddenly, I heard him cry out...
I want my mommy!
My jaw fell agape in awe. I want my mommy?!
Was this kid fucking serious? I felt rage. I wanted to go
outside and grab this kid by the collar of his shirt, lift him up
against the wall and give him a verbal (at least) beating like he's
probably never had in his life -- the kind a righteous father figure
should have given this kid years ago.
Thirteen year old boys DO NOT cry.
Thirteen year old boys DO NOT want their mommies.
Thirteen year old boys should be becoming men.
When I was thirteen years old, if my father couldn't take me to school
in the morning and wanted me to walk, I wouldn't even whine much less cry.
I would grab my backpack and begin the three mile walk, rain or
shine. When I misbehaved and my father disciplined me, I would
stand beneath the single hallway light and unflinchingly accept my
beating like a fucking man. I wouldn't shed a tear, much less cry
for my mother to save me.
When I was thirteen years
old, if I wasn't already a fucking man, I was at least headed in the
right direction. I knew my upcoming role in society, and I knew
what it meant to be a man -- and by god I was going to be a man and not
a fucking whining, crying pussy like some of the other kids I knew.
BOYS DON'T CRY.
One of the things I cannot stand the most is a man who does not behave
like a man. A man who knows and understands his feminine side is
one thing (I respect a man who understands himself as a whole) -- a man
who doesn't behave like a man is a completely different thing.
Mind you, this has nothing to do with sexual preference or orientation.
This has to do with gender roles in a functioning society.
Every society, whether examined at the macrosociological or the
microsociological (and at all levels in between), is affected by a
conflict between its constructive and destructive forces. As evil
of a man others may believe me to be, I have sided and always will side
with the constructive forces that move society forward. My enemy
in this conflict then, of course, are those who support the destructive
forces that retard the advancement and contribute to the unraveling of
my social fabric.
Society functions because it is comprised of
functioning parts. Once parts of the societal machine cease to
function properly, the societal machine will fail. I am all for
adaptability and flexibility, as I believe firmly that the most
flexible and adaptable will survive over the competition; but this has
nothing to do with flexibility and adaptability. This has to do
with the basic functionality of human society and the species itself.
Human beings are sexual creatures. We reproduce by selecting the
best mate and engaging in sexual activity to combine the best genes for
the survival of our species. As much as we try to deny it, trying
to convince ourselves that modern humankind has moved past this, our
behavior is so deeply programmed into our genetic makeup that even
unconsciously we search out indicators of the best genetics in our
potential mates.
Gloria Steinem said of women during the feminist movement, "Some of us are becoming the men we've always wanted to marry." I would rebut now that some of the men in our culture are becoming the women they've always wanted to marry.
A woman may say, "I don't need a man to protect me" or "I don't need a man to provide for me";
and that may be true in many cases -- but often times when we look at
the woman who says that, she is still attracted to men who are tall,
muscular, athletic, and slightly dangerous (subconsciously knows that
he can protect as a warrior) and/ or successful in their careers (able
to provide).
As humans, millions of years in development, we subconsciously look for these cues to tell us who to mate with.
When we ask ourselves questions like "What does it mean to 'be a man'?",
we can come up with empty descriptive words; but our image of a 'man'
is not easily voiced -- the concept isn't one that comes from the
superficial levels of the mind... it's one that comes from the deeper
layers because the concept is worked into our genetic code. Women
recognize a man when they see one or meet one. Lesser men
recognize and respect greater men when they see one or meet one.
We do this by instinct.
For hundreds of generations of men,
this has created a hierarchy of male pecking order. And for
hundreds of generations of women, this has created a hierarchy of mates
for sexual selection.
When a man behaves like a woman, not
only are the societal gender roles in danger, but also the
survivability of the species itself. An otherwise genetically
perfect specimen of a man may be overlooked because he is not giving
off the proper behavioral or visual cues that his genetically perfect
woman-mate is subconsciously looking for. That woman is not going
to be interested in that man if he is dressed like a woman, spends time
primping like a woman, or cries and gushes like a woman.
It
may be nice to have this man as a friend who understands, but this man
is a broken cog in the machine of society. He fails to serve his
purpose in the advancement of the society and the advancement of the
species, and thus is a negative, destructive influence.
Women will innately prefer the masculine, strong, protector over the shoulder-to-cry-on. The 'shoulder' may get more hugs and smiles and "what a cool guy" remarks and may even have many female friends, but...
The pussy does not get pussy.
The Alpha male, like it or not, will always get the
pussy. And that's what is essential to the functioning of society
and the survivability of the species.
Then again, I have
always believed that nature knows what it's doing. The Earth
seems to take care of itself, as self-important as we believe ourselves
to be. Species that don't belong anymore will be wiped out as
necessary, and new ones will take their place. Likewise, genetic
stock that doesn't belong will be removed as needed.
Perhaps this is nature's way to refine the genetic stock.
Perhaps this is a time where those who are not worthy of passing on
their genetic material become feminine or otherwise sexually
handicapped -- they may have girlfriends or wives who love them because
they are there for them to provide emotional nutrition, but guess who
fathers their children? The roving Alpha male, spreading the
top-grade genetic material as nature intends -- killing the ineffective
genetic lines where they stand and refining the best material to be
passed on.
So, kid next door -- maybe I've changed my mind
about you. Keep acting like a fucking girl, and I'm sure you
won't be fucking any girls in your future. That's my job. Bitch.
| | |
| "Back the fuck up!"
I yelled, throwing open the door of the Mercedes and charging forward toward
Toshiro's classmate. He and my best friend were toe-to-toe,
arguing and exchanging insults in the parking lot in front of their classroom.
"What, YOU want some too?" He shifted his attention away from Toshiro for a moment, and began charging straight toward me.
"YEAH, I DO." I walked straight up to him.
We weren't face-to-face. He was at least four inches shorter than
me, probably 5'-7" against my 6'-0" -- meaning
that he was possibly a full ten inches shorter than Toshiro.
He was probably only about 150 pounds
-- 50 pounds
lighter than my own 200 pounds, and a full 150
pounds
lighter than Toshiro. Toshiro might have cared that this guy was
smaller than him, but I didn't. I'd had enough of his shit.
I didn't hesitate, not for a second.
I threw a downward punch deep into his solar plexus, and he crumpled to the ground instantly.
"You like that?" I spat at him. "GET UP."
*****
His name was Aaron. I knew who he was. He was the small guy that harassed Toshiro all the
time, in class and sometimes in the parking lot afterwards -- most times for no good reason.
Aaron harassed Toshiro, and acted like an ass to him because he
knew that
Toshiro would never attempt to retaliate -- because both he and Toshiro
knew that if a 6'-'5", 300 pound known fighter ever laid a hand on a
5'-'7", 150 pound computer programmer, the former would always be at
fault no matter how much the latter goaded him, taunted him, or
harassed him. It would be Toshiro's fault even if Aaron attacked
him first. There simply cannot be a believable claim of
self-defense in Toshiro pummelling Aaron into the ground.
It was counter-intuitive, for sure -- but I'd known guys like Aaron all
my life, and by the time I saw Aaron heckling Toshiro, I was so sick of
seeing guys like Aaron getting away with what he was doing without
somebody putting him in his place.
I knew the type. They were the guys who rarely started anything
with other guys their own size, but eagerly tried picking fights with
much larger guys. They did this because they knew the bigger guys
would never fight back -- and this did two things for them:
1) It made them appear big and tough to everybody who watched them
confront and back down much bigger guys.
2) It made them
feel tough, even though they knew from the beginning that they wouldn't
have to back up their words.
And that was what pissed me off the most.
If you're going to talk shit and call people out to fight, you better be able to back your shit up.
It's
possible that Aaron actually liked fighting, and really wanted to fight
Toshiro for whatever psychotic reason he had (Aaron fighting Toshiro
would be like me taking on somebody that was 7'-3" and 420 pounds) --
but the way Aaron went down and stayed down when I actually called him
on his threat told me that he was either a wanna-be or a complete poser and not what he puffed himself up to be.
I
have no qualms about beating the snot out of a smaller opponent if he
starts the fight with me. If he's stupid enough to start a fight
with me, thinking I'm not going to beat his ass down -- he deserves to get his ass beat down. And if he's stupid
enough to try and constantly pick a fight with a 6'-5", 300 pound
warrior over a dispute about XML code, he deserves a battering from the really big guns, nevermind mine.
*****
Lately, more and more cities, counties and states are enacting
legislation specifically targeting MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) and what
they call "extreme cagefighting" MMA fighting competitions.
I am an MMA fighter.
It seems every week I open the newspaper and read a story about how
state legislatures are considering banning professional MMA matches
based on reports that schoolkids are fighting and emulating the
fighting they see at MMA matches in person and at home on TV.
It makes me sick.
I
don't know what planet these legislators grew up on, but schoolkids
fight. They always have, and they always will. Banning MMA
is not going to do anything about keeping them from fighting.
Even worse, they always discuss banning MMA matches while not even
mentioning boxing or standard kickboxing matches or any other violent sport.
The legislators argue that the kids are using the fighting techniques
they learn from watching MMA. So what if they are? They
could easily learn the techniques elsewhere -- even in more traditional
martial arts classes that have been available for years. A lot of
the ground technique I use is
stuff I learned from sources they would consider "legitimate" --
wrestling and judo in high school... instead now, I don't just
side-mount and end a match -- I give my opponent a face full of elbow
too.
The legislators argue that the kids are becoming more violent and have
a greater propensity to fight because they watch the violence in MMA
and want to re-enact it. In that case, what about boxing?
Boxing is sanctioned and loved, and is just as violent. What
about violent movies? Violent TV shows? It's the culture as
a whole not specifically MMA. To single out MMA as the single source of the increase in melee violence is ludicrous.
The legislators argue that the kids are emulating the professional MMA fighters, and are dangerously idolizing them.
This, I agree with -- but the solution is not to simply ban MMA.
It's to educate, and to guide. If you let people box without
education or guidance, you would end up with the same thing.
Wrestling too. Even sports like Football would end up being
street violence festivals without education and guidance. MMA is
no different.
Because MMA is entering pop culture, more and more kids are fighting
when they don't know the first thing about fighting. And it's not
just the kids -- it's people in general. This pop culture phenomenon is
leading to an explosion in the fighting culture.
Some of it is good -- now I can watch UFC Unleashed and The Ultimate
Fighter on Spike TV. Now there's more guys I can train
with. But most of it is bad. Now there's all kinds of guys
roaming the streets acting like tough guys and picking fights because
they think they can fight. And when they're winning, they don't
have the good sense to know when to stop.
When we fight, we know
when to stop. When the guy is unconscious, you leave him
be. No, these guys will continue bashing their opponent's skulls
into the asphalt until he is nearly dead. When we're done
fighting, we help our opponent up, and we love him because he shed blood with us. No
such thing with these guys.
I've seen this happen before to another sport I loved -- it happened five years ago.
*****
The same pop culture phenomenon that is infecting
MMA also happened to the street racer culture five years ago when The
Fast and the Furious came out in theaters.
When I first saw the trailer for The Fast and the Furious, I was
psyched. I used to watch the TRIAL movie series from Japan as a
kid, and finally somebody was making a movie in America.
I'd been racing on
the track since I was thirteen -- I knew the dynamics of handling an
FF2000 racecar around a roadcourse before I was even allowed to drive on
the public streets. Racing was my life. I became a street
racer later, and rose to promience in the street racing culture.
In real life, I was Vin Diesel. I could make five phone calls,
and in an hour I could assemble over five-hundred people in an
industrial parking lot or in a mountain pass ready for a night of racing.
We were respectful back then. We didn't race when innocent people
could get hurt. We had spotters on turns on the mountain to watch
for innocent people coming up and down the mountain -- and if somebody
saw somebody, we would stop the race. No glory was worth the loss
of an innocent person's life.
When the race was over, we would
meet each other, and hang out and talk about racing or check out each
others cars. It was a friendly scene made up of people who had
the professional mentality.
Once The Fast and the Furious was shown to the general public, it all changed.
I've owned a Mk.IV Twinturbo Supra since 1995.
Prior to the movie coming out, people respected my Supra because I
earned their respect by annihilating every single opponent I've ever
raced on the street -- 211 and 0.
After the movie
came out, every kid from every corner and his brother admired my Supra
because they saw the hideous orange Supra as the "cool car" from the
movie. They didn't know the first thing about it. They just
thought it was cool and suddenly everybody wanted a Supra.
From that day on, I was endlesslly harassed -- not only by cops who
viewed me as some kind of Evil Racer King™, but by the legions of
wannabe racers who either hated on me because I drove a Supra or wanted
to fuck with me just to see me go.
All of a sudden, our scene wasn't one of professionally-minded
racers.
The scene became one of street punks and racer wannabes, trying to show off
all the time. It became one where it was no longer two highly
skilled drivers in competition with built-up cars -- it was one with
sixteen year olds who barely had their licenses, who barely knew how to
drive their cars, doing 110mph in a 45mph zone with eight people piled into their family sedans.
Inevitably, these racer wannabes would end up sending everybody
to their deaths in a firey wreck on the side of the road.
And
then the world really turned on us. It was pop culture popularity
that doomed us -- because our world flooded over with posers and
wannabes. It wasn't that suddenly kids were racing all of a
sudden. Kids always raced, as far back as the first cars were made. It was that now being a "racer" was cool, and
everybody wanted to do it no matter if they had what it took or not to be a true driver.
This is the same thing I see happening with MMA and the popular culture surrounding it.
MMA
is a good thing for a lot of men. Finally, we're able to
explore our masculinity and find that primal man inside of us.
Finally, we can feel alive after feeling dead inside of our corporate
nightmares. The guys I train with every night are
mostly guys who just discovered MMA within the last few years, and have
found their place in life. They're much better people now because
they're fighters now.
But on the other hand, guys like Aaron are also springing up all over
the place -- getting in people's faces because they like to act
tough.
I know who is tough and who is not. Tough is in
the
mind. Tough, I can see in the eyes. I can smell
Tough. And Aaron wasn't tough. Aaron was a fucking wannabe
poser.
I've been a Muay Thai
fighter for fourteen years, and a Shootfighter for nine years with a
wrestling and judo background.
And I see guys like Aaron trying to stand chest-to-chest with me, nevermind standing chest-to-belly with Toshiro (who could wipe the floor with Aaron one-handed), and
back me down because he thinks I won't destroy him.
Aaron is the equivalent of the VW Jetta pulling up beside a built Mk.IV
Twinturbo Supra and harassing it, thinking that it won't take off for
fear of being chased down by cops or otherwise caught, arrested and prosecuted.
If you're going to bark, little dog... get ready to be mauled.
*****
Lucky for Aaron, I didn't maul him. I'm not a fucking animal.
I'm a professional.
I know how to fire
solid, precise shots that will disable my enemy's ability to wage war
against me.
One shot to his solar plexus, and Aaron's body went into shock and
he lay nearly unconscious in pain on the ground. I could have easily
dropped in on him, mounted him, and smashed his skull into the
pavement, leaving a bloody head-print on the asphalt.
But the real fighters don't do
that. Only the thugs, punks and wannabes do. It's probably
what Aaron would have done to either of us, if he had superiority in
size and/or training. But he didn't have that on us. And
Aaron never will -- guys like him will never have what it takes.
We left him on the ground, got in the car and left.
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