Man Week: Taking a Beating
For some of you guys this will be the most important post of Man Week. Some will love it because I wrote it. Some will hate it because I wrote it. Some, however, will realize that this issue is bigger than the author and the story used to present its gist. This post is less about who we are and more about what we are. This post is about leaving it all on the field. It is a socially unacceptable, morally reprehensible guide which illustrates how to be intoxicated by every breath you take and how to succeed in everything you do.
I am sitting on a panel discussing something or the other. I am surrounded by nine other men. We are voicing our views on a subject. Within ten minutes, I am the only one speaking. The rest have gone silent. I am dominating the conversation and setting my personal agenda. This is probably the thousandth time this has happened. My ego is not satiated. I do not feel good about it. I don't feel tough or powerful, I feel like a bully...but that is not my intent. I am pissed off and it is probably showing. I want them to tell me that I am wrong. I want them to stand up for their views and fight, but they don't. This is the mark of today's man...a lion behind a screen, but a mouse when powered by his spinal cord in the light of day.
There is a reason for this scenario's increasingly frequent occurrence. It is a basic deficiency of your generation and admittedly, mine, as well. You see, there is something missing from our modern man (he-bitch) diet which has rendered us impotent in the face of testosterone charged interaction. That vitamin, that mineral, that nutrient... is violence. To be more precise, it is the experience of becoming a man through physical suffering.
Eddie already gave you guys the definition of a warrior yesterday, so I won't add any more fuel to that particular fire. It is important to highlight, however, that tens of thousands of years of genetic memory do not fade easily. Our bones, our blood and our instincts are far from the makeup of modernity we mask ourselves with daily. The true experience of manhood can be described in three simple words. These three words hold greater meaningful than anything in life. I repeat... anything. They are simple and plain. They spread across spheres and cover all metaphysical spectra. They don't rationalize and explain themselves. They are the essence of manhood, because they allow you to achieve anything. They open your eyes and show you the actual truth, not the pre-packaged version. They are cold and unforgiving...but let you bask in an endless glow...
Taking a Beating
Yep...there they are. Simple and plain. A beating, more than anything else is the key that will unlock all those doors en route to your dreams. It will free you of fear, of worry and of cowardice. It will inspire you to stop seeking mommy, daddy and society's approval and stand on your own two feet. No piece of tail, no driver's license, amount of push-ups, money made, prestige achieved, house or car purchased or anything for that matter can replace the empowering feeling of getting the shit kicked out of you... and walking away from it.
It is the one thing every man throughout history had to experience and it is the one thing missing from most male realities today. Through our daily grind of over information and over analysis we forget the simple beauties of life. Anything from the sun shining, to the smile of an innocent child. We race to achieve and advance, not realizing that in this very moment we are winners. We choose to believe the machine, which tells us the opposite. We delude ourselves into perspectives and views which don't fucking matter. We chain ourselves with the bondage of achievement, which is often nothing more than the illusion of safety. In reality...slavery.
We do not appreciate what we have. Only the adrenaline release caused by pure fear and pain can wake you up from your perpetual stupor. Only a literal ass whipping. Only the knowledge that between you and eternal sleep lies only the size of your balls, which can grow shockingly huge in these defining moments. When you realize both, that you will die and that it is time to get busy living.. Only through the cathartic taste of our own blood and pain can you really live life.
Here's a little story that must be told, for those middle aged, young and old...
Of Mice...Men
Joe came from a good home. He had a picket fence protecting his childhood home from the harshness of the world. He had a mom and a dad. He went to a private school. Then a private college. The a private bank. Then further and further into the private sector. Joe was very private. Joe was very logical. Joe was very worldly. Joe was a nice guy. Joe had no enemies. Joe was a corpse, with a pulse.
Is it starting to sound like you've heard this one already? Good. Keep reading...
One night, I changed Joe's life...on purpose and quite by accident. We were at a friend's house party, where most of us knew each other. I saw a cute chick talking to Joe. More accurately, I saw a horny girl drooling over Joe. I knew she liked him and that he liked her. But I also knew it would never happen. Being the eternal gentleman, Joe chatted her up about birds, bees, trees and everything except the fact that he wanted to get in between her knees.
The impotent dance between them had lasted for almost a year. She giving the signals and he missing them every time, caught up in the eternal pickle between first and second base. To make a long story short, I took her off his hands. I didn't like doing it to him, but I knew Joe. I knew he'd fuck it up. I had gone home empty handed before because of his kindness. His refusal to eat a steak that jumped on his plate after searing itself medium-rare. You know that uncomfortable situation where your friend's date/girlfriend/mother is giving you the look? Well it always happened to me when I was around Joe. Being a nice guy, he always had lots of women around. Lots of good friends. Needless to say, he was more than a bit frustrated in the romance department.
This evening, however, I wasn't taking anymore losses for the team or for the coddling of his fragile ego. I snatched that ass like a klepto. Like bulk candy from a supermarket tub. Then we did that which would infuriate and embarrass you the most at that moment, if you were Joe. Right in the next room. Where everyone could hear us. Now, before you read on and throw all types of shit at me...realize I was really wasted and having some serious personal problems at the time. I want you guys to understand that I am not bragging. I also want you to focus on the embedded message that is the spinal column of this story's skeleton.
This is not about getting laid or being some sort of player.
I'm making no excuses for my actions, just understand that what comes next is an act of love. The act of a true friend...
I walked out of the room, lighting up a celebratory cigarette and throwing a glazed gaze at my not-so-admiring public. I got a lot of dirty looks, some snickers and a high five from one guy who was practically crying from laughter. Then I spotted Joe. He had a look of pure hate on his face. He stared at me with such contempt that years later I still haven't found the words to describe it. I walked over. He had no clue what was coming. He should have, but he didn't. The years of social conditioning and fear of this exact moment had made him blind. Like a deer in headlights or a lamb to the slaughter. He had never learned the value of the three words.
The first punch landed in the crevice between his cheek and jaw bone. It wasn't a knockout blow, but rather one of those strikes that sounds more like a slap. He stumbled backwards confused and leaned back against the bar. Then came the combination. A quick one, two. The jab got his right eye, the cross cracked over his chin. He flipped over the bar and fell unconscious before the stunned crowd managed to restrain me.
I woke up with a piercing headache and felt pretty good. I know that makes me a bastard to some, if not all of you. But as self righteous and indignant as it may come off, I knew I had done the right thing. I knew this would wake him up and snap him out of it. I was right. But like all good things in life, rewards don't come quickly. It really is about the journey. Joe's had just begun...
Over three years would pass, but the knock came to my door. I had heard stories about Joe. I had heard that he quit his job. I had heard he became Durdenesque. I had heard a bunch of stories. None seemed like the Joe I had known. But then again, that Joe finally did the right thing. He died.
There in front of me... beaming with joy, was a man I recognized, but did not know at all. A look of serenity and calm on his face. A big ass tattoo which reached down to his wrist, peeking out the collar of his shirt and ending at the base of his neck. He had also added about twenty pounds of pure muscle, had exchanged his side part for a buzz cut and definitely had me thinking that my ass was about to get really friendly with his foot. This wouldn't have been so bad if he was still rocking cushy Gucci loafers, but they too had been replaced...by shit kicker combat boots.
Joe didn't say anything. He just hugged me. I wasn't sure if it was a token of affection or an attempt to break my spine. Felt like both. Joe would go on to say the words "I can't thank you enough for kicking my ass" half-a-dozen times during our conversation. He was a new man. I didn't even know this guy, but I liked him a lot.
At this point, my side of the story ends. I have told you enough about another man's path, he should tell you the rest. In fact, here's what he told me about his beginning. A beginning whose details pale in comparison and fade away next to the broad strokes of the possibilities that come next.
I woke up and I looked my face. My eye was closed and completely purple. My teeth were so loose that I literally pushed a few out with my tongue. I could only think to myself "how am I going to explain this at work?". I was determined to sue your ass off. I cried like a baby while I listened to encouraging voice mail after voice mail. Everyone from the party was expressing their condolences and pity. As if I had died. They all said they would testify for me in court. I felt a so much contempt for them. A contempt I had never felt before. It was bone deep. I screamed and punched out my bathroom mirror. The glass broke and my hand bled pretty bad. I went outside and got a Gyro from the street vendor. I wiped the bloody hand on the wall of my building. He looked at me like I was going to eat him and not the greasy gob of slop. It was the best breakfast of my life. That greasy shit tasted like the finest 5 star meal. The can of Coke was like Ambrosia. I had never felt alive until that moment. I knew what I had to do. I didn't even show up to work on Monday. I tossed my cell phone on the spot. I realized that the thing I feared most, the thing that kept me paralyzed all those years...was the fear of what you had done. Now that I had taken a beating, I realized that nothing in life mattered except the next breath. I really thought I was going to die that morning. But it wasn't from pain, it was from shame. In looking in the mirror I realized that the pain was mine. I realized that it didn't matter what the audience thought. I finally saw and felt, that my misery came from trying to live how they wanted me to. For the first time in my life...I said fuck them, this is about me. So I left. I started living that day thanks to what I always thought would kill me.
Hahaha great story and well told.
So wait, you just beat him up cuz he looked at you funny? Like damn dude, that's rough.
Nice read, but more and more I think that you're fantasizing that life.
Good shit, but definitely sounds like you're taking increasing artistic liberties (aka hyperbole) in each article.
says the LA man.
To be honest I only read the first paragraph before calling out the artistic liberties. After reading others' posts I had to go back and finish the story...
Let me get this straight -
So you fuck your buddy's girl, beat his ass in a highly stylized fashion (which you remember and describe in stunning detail despite being "fucked up"), which eventually makes him quit his successful job and turn into a tattooed meathead... then he thanks you for it like he's enlightened by some Eat Pray Love shit?
ah. men playing god. it happens too often.
I saw Fight Club too Midas and the 'guy's' response to you 'hitting' him was almost a verbatim quote from either that movie or the 'made of glass speech' from Green Street Hooligans. Nice try kiddo.
This all sounds too much like an article i just read in men's health while at the airport...
Say what you want about how you positively affected the guy's life but at the end of the day you are (or were) an asshole. Who crushes a girl (in the next room) that your buddy has openly expressed an interest in and then proceeds to punch him in the face. I was the epitome of an asshole in college and even I would not have considered pulling that kind of robbery because I value loyalty above everything else.
One of my former best friends' ex-girlfriends was at my house like a year ago and hit on me. I tapped that, (hard, like all day sex, facials, etc). We vowed to never tell him, but little did we know he apparently had access to her email (got her password when they were together), and she emailed some of her girlfriends about it and thus he found out. A mutual guy friend told me he found out before a group get together. I thought he'd start a fight at that event (he's a pretty bellicose kid, and wouldn't be the first fight in our friend group), but he didn't. He didn't talk to me at all (and hasn't since; he moved away like a month afterwards).
It's actually funny; that girl is now one of my best friends, so my best friend count remained unchanged hahaha. I don't regret it one bit, if a hot chick comes by my house and blatantly hits on me, I am going to tap that. I never assumed my friend would find out or that he would engage in such stalkerish activity with regard to her (he's got good game and gets with lots of chicks, which is why I thought it wouldn't be a big deal)...guess he wasn't over her...oops!
You are a female. No loyalty is a bitch move. Period.
Great article (if true; currently being debated), but a few questions come to mind. When, Mr. Midas, have you taken a beating? That's the story I would like to hear. If I meet you in the street, should I just knock the shit out of you?
Sorry about the late response gals, I was in the ER getting my lacerated thumb looked after. Though that story would have soaked up the haterade many of you are chugging, there's a fine line between soul baring and self incrimination. Feel better though if you want a pint of my blood...I spilled about three of them all over the street this past weekend and dropped four pounds in the process. Take that 4 Hour Body!
Now to get into some commentary:
I have been taking ass whippings since I was in nursery school. My far from beautiful face has been on the business end of everything from a brick to a piece of rail road tracks. I have certainly lost enough fights to know that winning one or a thousand doesn't make me tough. If you meet me in the street you should definitely knock the shit out of me and/or anyone else, if it will improve your state of being and if you have room in your life for the penal experience.
As for all the rocket surgerists who didn't get the tongue-in-cheek homage, the Tyler Durden reference and the fucking Ed Norton picture, yes...this is a true story. Shit like this happens all the time in the world and if you think that it is life that imitates art (and not the other way around)...you really need to get out more often. All the while entertaining you guys, however, I must also have respect for the real people referenced herein and change some details around to protect people's identities. This is why a story gets packaged in familiar gift wrap.
As beta26 so astutely pointed out, the point here is not my behavior or whether I think highly or poorly of myself. Whether I am a good guy or not doesn't make a difference. What makes a difference is how a sheltered man's life was changed by the introduction of an activity into his life which he cognitively fears, but genetically needs.
There is a far greater issue at hand here than the details of this tale. Think about the message more than the method of delivery. Many of you guys are missing the forest while staring at one tree.
As far as me not being a great friend, person or man...perhaps you are all correct.
But if there is one thing to take out of Man Week it is that only you can decide for yourself what kind of guy you will be. I share my experiences to show you that there should never be shame or regret in your mind and to give you something to think about. What you do with it is up to you...
This guy lives in a fantasy world lol
Damn Midas. Didn't know you had it in you. Excellent post
I'm still waiting on my beating
I appreciate you baring all for us, but I agree with junkbond
having made the comment above. I will say I'm constantly hitting my head against the wall trying to rationalize with my girlfriends who are their own worst enemy.
that could be amazing.
If you're intelligent about it, you will never get into fights; and it has nothing to do with submissiveness.
I've stolen guys chicks many times and have gotten really good at defusing fights that might result afterwards (I have no real interest in fighting, I left that shit behind in middle school). I have some really great stories about this actually. I'm not the biggest guy but if you plant that seed of doubt in them that they might lose, because of your response (not just what you say in response to their threat, but posture, tone, etc.), they will back down.
(PS - I am not liable for you dumbasses that try to follow my advice, but screw up and instead get your face beat in by "Bubba")
(PS2 - NEVER throw the first punch. The person that initiates the fight is guilty for assault and battery should a legal proceeding ever result. If someone inititates a fight with you, throws the first punch, and then you beat the hell out of them, you are not liable for anything; on top of that you can sue THEM in court and win; it's like a double whammy hahaha)
The only thing I take away from this post is that it is good to know how to defend yourself. Otherwise, this is the wrong message to be sending to impressionable 18 - 24 year olds. Try getting into HBS, Wharton, Stanford with a felony assault on your record and see how that works out.
Or explaining it to the desk that's trying to hire you but getting flak from HR.
Fighting in the real world can be pretty rough. Pick up MMA or play rugby if you want a similar experience without the potential of getting shanked or committing a felony.
Wow, you have to be the worst friend ever.
I got jumped by about 8 mexicans outside of Rock and Roll McDonalds a few weekends back. I fought back and got in a few licks but eventually went down and got stomped. I woke up and realized the exact opposite of this "Joe" character. I realized i am so lucky to have what i have; a great job, great friends, a great place and a great girl.
My recent rendezvous with the Zetas (not really, just my racist portrayal of a group of Mexicans), made me realize that being absolutely hammered on the streets at 4 a.m. by myself talking shit and yelling ridiculous comments was probably not the best idea, this ass kicking snapped me into the reality that people depend on me and i can't keep acting like a fucking child in college.
Sorry but i equate your story to the likes of Warren Buffet deciding to suddenly be a philanthropist when he is dead, this story (if true), is an extremely rare fucking occurance. Another, way more plausible, outcome would have been every one of your friends hating you and thinking you are a d-bag and completely self obsessed. I'm all for Man Week, but i sincerely hope no one takes any of this shit serious and beats a buddies ass or is a complete cunt at work and gets fired...
PS, if this is true my new prestige rankings MMM > Charlie Scheen > TPG
anyone saying that this is unbelievable or fighting is pointless. Stop living your sheltered lives, no one has any idea who anyone actually is behind the computer screen... How do we know that Kimbo slice isn't among our mitts or even better for some Mr. Kravis. So before you judge someone figure out the facts.
@SDBalll no one said you had to get caught.
hahaha
.
I once got my ass beat in the parking lot of a Del Taco while everyone inside watched and enjoyed their meals. It wasn't bad enough he beat my ass, the sonofabitch actually picked me up and hurled me into some thorn bushes. Good times.
One of the coolest things about being a young Marine (which is when this happened) was being able to test your mettle against any other Marine at almost any time. You could just spot another jarhead, give him a smirk and a "You wanna go?"-type look, and 30 seconds later you were throwing down. Nobody ever got seriously hurt, and you never had to worry about some loser pulling a knife or a gun.
These days I'd do anything in my power to avoid a fight (outside the ring, obviously) because you just never know who you're up against. I'm not worried about someone being a better fighter than me (there are plenty of them out there), but I'm scared to death of roughing someone up a bit and then they come back with a gun. Not to mention how sue-happy everybody is these days.
I just fully read Midas' post. Are you fucking kidding me? You did something hurtful to your friend and then sucker punched him?
This is part of your definition of "being a real man?" What a fucking joke.
A real man is loyal to his friends and family. A real man can settle conflicts without violence. A real man can defend himself if need be.
But a real man sure as hell isn't hurting the people in his life and isn't sucker punching them because it'll "help them not be a corpse with a pulse anymore." I guess not living life by your standards somehow means that they're doing it wrong and no rules apply. Maybe you're doing it wrong, dude.
His point was that if you find yourself one day next to a pool of your own blood, you might just wake up and stop going through the motions of life.
I agree with Midas' point that a beating can service its purpose. However, If you are willing to bang a friend's romantic interest and then sucker punch him as a form of advice, you may not be someone worth taking advice from.
i know 2 guys that got their asses kicked pretty bad and it turned them into real men.. as in they became confident, started working out, became better with the ladies.. so maybe it is a rare but not impossible. btw this was back in highschool where getting in fights doesnt usually end up with you getting a felony charge or a record
Man Week, you started off so well...Mid-week crisis?
Fake.
In middle school I got punched in the face. I just stood there and looked at the kid. When the teacher came by tell me I was bleeding, he was long gone. Apparently I insulted his friend. Besides that, the only other person who kicked my ass was my dad when he found weed on me. I was 18. So...I'm still searching for that real beat down.
I get the point about having to get your ass kicked to wake up, hell its happened to me but if you were going to write an article titled "Taking a Beating" maybe you should have actually taken a beating in the story and not been the one giving it out. Maybe you should have let eddie take this one since he is man enough to have admit he has been beat up.
There is a tupac quote for every situation in life
Worst thing I've read on here, including Boutiquebank4Life's comments/posts
The whole 'best tasting breakfast ever' thing was in Fight Club.
A great story, but highly unlikely that it is true.
Joe and Midas turned out to be the same person, and after the reunion they/he blew up a couple of buildings as "where is my mind" by the pixies played in the background
Best thing I've read on here all week.
It is funny to read the comments and see the people who missed the point of this whole story. Who gives a shit if its fake or not that isn't the point at all. The point is it isn't you, you aren't doing it so it can't be real. It is funny when something that is partially politically incorrect is said WSO goes from 18-24 male demographic to preteen bunch of emotional people. Read between the lines and stop being an excel monkey.
inb4 shit storm
I've lost all respect for you with these posts this week Midas...You're white trash in a Wall Street suit.
This is Frieds' conscious, aware of the world around him. This is Frieds' conscious, aware of what he did right or wrong. This is Frieds' conscious, watching his body act accordingly and patiently reacting accordingly, letting him function within the parameters of normalcy. Prior to this past weekend, this is how Frieds' conscious worked. This past weekend, Frieds' conscious was exposed to something that he needed to face, the serious potential of losing everything and being free from the burdens of the fear of failure and gained the greatest insight to himself. Frieds' conscious is no longer afraid and is now able to accept his freedom without burden, regardless of cost and consequence.
It doesn't matter whether you are violent or not, but in order to truly be free, you must be exposed to something in your life that frees you from the mental bonds of anguish that hold you back. That's what Midas is talking about. It doesn't fucking matter whether you get into a fight or not. Joe's mental bonds were his inability to complete something and by losing something that he had wanted to a guy like Midas, he found himself in a position to look past his anguish of losing something and turn himself into something he wasn't.
When you finally face that fear, where you are thrown to the absolute bottom and have nothing left to fear, then you are free of the mental bonds. Getting the shit kicked out of you doesn't need to be physical.Getting the shit kicked out of you is all about getting thrown to the bottom of the pit, physically or mentally, and walking away a stronger man.
As Frieds' conscious watched what happened this past weekend, he found himself at the absolute bottom, in desolation for something that could have destroyed him. As Frieds' conscious watched the madness, he felt defeat and was freed from a bond that he would have never been broken from otherwise. Frieds' conscious watched as Frieds got the shit kicked out of him, as fear took over, and the slow march to freedom that came as a result. Frieds' conscious no longer fears the failures that once bothered him, but accepted them as a means of being freer than he once was.
Walking away from our beatings and growing from them is the only way we free ourselves from these bonds. Failure is the greatest thing we can ever learn. Getting the shit kicked out of us and being able to walk away from that true failure will free us all. That is a fact that no story can ever teach.
LMFAO wtf is this guy serious? I almost spit my milk all over my lappy when I read that. What are we idiots? Only thing worse than making this up and passing it off as the truth is it actually being true and thinking you're anything but scum for doing it. You fuck your buddy's chick at a party and then sucker punch him 3 times? You got to be some narcissistic to think you're doing anyone a favor pulling off that bullshit. Update: some guys aren't good with girls, some guys are timid and maybe a bit too nice, there's nothing wrong with that. You don't fuck their girl and then knock them out you douchebag. Give your head a shake.
Then he shows up years later in army boots with a big tattoo and gives you a hug? I'll finish it for you. You glance over his shoulder through the front yard to see the girl sitting in the passenger seat of his convertible. You look at him, he cracks a smile, you guys laugh it off playfully punching each other in the ribs. He puts his arm around you while you guys walk into your house and the girl gets out of the car to follow you in the background. The screen dims and the credits roll. Everyone lives happily ever after.
the part of this story i find most suspicious is the actual fight...i dont think i've ever seen a three punch combination in a bare knuckle fistfight and i've seen my share and been in more then a few. Thats not how fights work in real life especially when the first punch is a sucker punch that the guy wasnt expecting.
I guess maybe i'm not getting it and this is supposed to be a fictional parable about becoming a man a la "Old Yeller"....if so it has been done better by others and i dont see the point of it.
And this was Freud speaking in 21st century... I bet the rest of your posts are gonna be about a guy struggling to sleep with a woman. You would've been fine with Joe if he fucked his girlfriend as you wished. You only justified his "impotency" with his background and behavior shit...
so MMM (admited to having personal problems) fucks his pussy friends crush and proceeds to beat the crap out of him for looking at him funny/being a gigantic fucking pussy. why is this so hard to believe? i've personally done both of these things before (though not within minutes of each other and in such dramatic fashion), and am certainly not proud of them. but shit like this happens, i've seen crazier shit happening at parties.
Unlike the majority, I don't particularly care if Midas' story is true. The message (which is somewhat obscured by the story) is good: live your life without fear. However, this could have gone down very differently if your friend Joe, after having been freed from fear courtesy of your actions, decided to come back the next day and shoot you (and probably the girl too, for good measure). In order to get away with what you did, you were banking on his rationality, his good nature, his desire for a comfortable life and career, or perhaps just his reluctance to spend the rest of his life in jail for killing you. Make the wrong person snap and you'll be staring up a barrel wishing you could have taken it back.
That's why I think fear is a generally a healthy thing for people to have - free them from too much fear and they will have less regard for the legal consequences of violent action. Little enough regard, perhaps, for them to kill you in retaliation for a stunt like the one you pulled. Sure, they'll have to bear the consequences for their actions, but it's not really much good to you to see Joe get the injection or go away for life if you're dead, is it?
With this thread, I think people are seeing the dangers of the devil-may-care, don't-give-a-fuck attitude that you seem to have mistaken for manliness. You can be confident and assertive without being confrontational and violent. Also, Joe is an idiot for not suing your ass.
i'm not going to read this entire thread, but i get the feeling that people are misinterpreting the message here. from what i read, MMM is not trying to justify his behavior or encourage beating the crap out of your friends or doing their girlfriends. he says that his actions were "an act of love", though he admits to being "...really wasted and having some serious personal problems at the time".
this post isn't about him, it's about Joe. it's about how this violent experience changed Joe's perspectives on life. attempting to recreate this yourself would be highly ill-advised, but take the story for what it is... a parable based on true events.
His name is Robert Paulson
His name is Robert Paulson
Oh.
I'll give you another story about a man who isn't afraid to take a beating.
I was out shopping with my dad, and we had a shopping cart with several boxes of food. I remember we both walked away to look at some special deal and left the cart unattended for a few minutes. When we look back, the cart is not where we left it. Our boxes of food have been unloaded onto the floor, and a big black man is walking off with our cart! Without a word, my dad sprints over to the guy and puts his hands firmly on the side of the cart. The interaction went something like this:
My dad: "This is my cart. What the hell are you doing?" Guy: "Well you shouldn't leave your cart unattended." My dad: "This is my cart. It's none of your business what I do with it."
At this point, voices are escalating, mom-and-pop shoppers have stopped to watch the scene, and testosterone levels are elevating. The guy quickly throws out the expected hook to my dad - "So what are you going to do about it?"
My dad gives the best response that I have ever heard to this question - he thinks for a second and then says, "Nothing. I won't do anything. Because society tells me that I can't do anything." Now, my dad grew up and spent most of his life in Russia. He spent his college summers building railroads and houses in Siberia alongside ex-convicts in order to earn money. This was a guy who had taken beatings in his life - both literal and figurative. So when he said, "Because society tells me that I can't do anything" - the implication in his voice was, "I'm not picking a fight; I'm smarter than that. But if it came to it, I'm more than capable of throwing down with you right here...and oh, by the way, where I'm from, you would never even think about pulling this kind of shit."
The guy walked away.
Now how many people would step up to a huge black dude over a shopping cart? People I know would fall into two camps here - the majority wouldn't do shit, and brush it off as not being worth arguing over when in fact they're really just afraid of potentially getting their ass kicked. And the minority of "tough" guys would go over there and actually pick a fight.
My dad would later admit that he regretted going over there - who the fuck gets into a fight over a shopping cart? But for him it was a natural reaction. He didn't go over there for a fight. He didn't accept a fight. He wasn't playing tough guy when he was asked what he was going to do about it. He just went to get his cart back, pure and simple. There wasn't even a chance of a fight happening. But if a fight were to happen then, win or lose, my dad was prepared for it.
Midas, you are without doubt the most full-of-shit guy I have ever come across. This is the last post of yours I'll ever read.
Fantastic story. Made the hair on the back of my neck stand.
I beat the shit out of a guy!
Sorry guys, heh, I was getting my lacerated thumb looked at while not responding.. cool shit like this happens to me all the time.
Come on
Whether true or not, I don't think this is good advice at all. This is an example of 1 person who supposedly got happier after getting beat up (or was it bc you took his girl?): 1. Not everyone who gets beat up has an epiphany that makes their lives better. In fact, I would be willing to be that the vast majority of people who get beat up (especially in embarrassing situations like this one) go into depression. This is the type of traumatic shit that more often sticks in people's heads and gives them psychological problems, or that just causes them to do something stupid and fuck up their lives.. 2. Did you really make this guy's life better? It sounds to me like he threw away everything he worked for just to toughen up because you made him feel like a pussy. After being a straight-edge, he gets a tattoo down to his wrist, works out like crazy, then tells you how much you helped him..is this guy better off or mentally unstable?
Heh. As with a lot of things you read in the philosophy arena, you have to glean what's useful and discard the rest. I appreciate the rock bottom / getting beat down idea (similar to the "ashes" concept in Iron John by Robert Bly - would recommend checking that out if you really want to explore this subject) but I think it's diluted here by a lot of noise and questionable conclusions. A few thoughts:
-- Again, the phase of ashes / rock bottom is an important one and often a necessary prerequisite to a trully fulfilling life. However, it is only one phase in a long journey. It isn't a place where you stay (which seems to be what Joe did).
-- Maybe it's supposed to be metaphor but I'm not too keen on these "clean cut corporate guy to shaved head guy with tattoo" transformations. You don't need to permanently relegate yourself to the underclass in order to be tough.
-- Be intelligent about who you are fighting and why. This is what distinguishes the true warriors and the elite from the thugs / proles / gangbangers / other human detritus.
-- Along the lines of the previous point, understand the consequences of violence. A Giants fan was recently jumped by a couple cholos at a Dodger game - got kicked in the head and now he's in a coma and doctors had to remove part of his skull. Be able to distinguish fights that "test" you versus true fights for you life (and if you get in the latter make sure you have the odds stacked in your favor and it's absolutely necessary - again, this is where intelligence comes in to play).
More like this.
Non sed officiis totam aut. Provident ut est numquam blanditiis. Voluptas et voluptatem illum quia tenetur ab. Dicta tenetur at praesentium aliquam beatae harum et. Et quam autem est ducimus asperiores.
Itaque aut similique ullam ducimus odit. Et suscipit eum tempore iusto rerum. Perferendis temporibus maiores aliquid a doloremque consequatur iure.
Eligendi ducimus incidunt ad neque. Illo optio atque ex laboriosam quia voluptatem quam.
Reprehenderit nam tempore ut vitae fugit numquam ea praesentium. Molestiae omnis vel repellat praesentium ullam est. Explicabo voluptas cum adipisci. Libero debitis omnis quod nihil.
See All Comments - 100% Free
WSO depends on everyone being able to pitch in when they know something. Unlock with your email and get bonus: 6 financial modeling lessons free ($199 value)
or Unlock with your social account...
Reprehenderit repellat sint iste est assumenda ut fugiat. Ratione enim velit ad ut eum. Laudantium ipsam nesciunt voluptatum voluptatum. Sit adipisci est in ut sit reprehenderit perferendis. Consectetur aliquid voluptate pariatur. Libero nam ut eveniet id ullam aut alias sint.
Voluptates provident labore nesciunt dicta. Et temporibus saepe et fugiat consequatur. Blanditiis asperiores tenetur doloremque ut aut in fugiat. Minima voluptatem dolore qui pariatur voluptas.
Molestiae iure sit aut omnis quia non qui ullam. Et reiciendis sint illo iure est molestiae. Non repudiandae molestiae quos optio.
Quis voluptatem ut voluptas ut vero ut et. Et sit maxime non. Ipsam totam eum laudantium fugit autem odio soluta assumenda.
Dolorum veritatis et expedita accusantium nam. Non exercitationem maiores velit sapiente minima est. Enim rerum laboriosam assumenda. Enim ratione est soluta non consequatur eos. Rerum deserunt eos sed non. Et quis ea fugiat dolorem est qui voluptatem optio. Corrupti perferendis ipsam quia sed qui.
Asperiores occaecati numquam aliquid. Dolorum eveniet assumenda nihil blanditiis. Et ut est repudiandae dolor voluptas. Sit necessitatibus vero amet dicta. Ut reprehenderit et voluptatibus et possimus eius quae molestias. Velit dolorem minus tempore fugiat. Dolor dicta non velit fuga commodi quia quo voluptas.
Vel quis unde dolore vitae ut. Aut quibusdam aspernatur qui tempore et illo voluptatem. Aut temporibus aperiam voluptas ratione officia et quia.