Tortoise And The Hare

Marketing works best when it speak to an insecurity of a potential buyer. For as stated in The Art Of Seduction by Robert Greene: 

“For one to be seduced one must want to be seduced”.

When you are poor you would want to have wealth.

When you are fat you would want to be jacked.

When you aren’t getting laid you would want to fuck.

In these situations you are missing something and it also happens to be the best selling categories of all of marketing. Health, wealth and sex. 

When you don’t have a thing you want you’re going to doubt yourself why you don’t have it. Don’t you deserve it? Don’t you earn it? Don’t you work for it?

9/10 it’s the third one.

But that’s fine because HE has the answer. HE knows how you can get that wealth you’ve always wanted, the health you always dreamed of and the girlzah you’ve always wanted to fuck.

And how did he got it?

Well he’s going to teach you!

And that’s how he got it.

He got it because he played on your insecurities and made you want to give him your money so you could get the feeling of achieving what you want.

And you’re not the only one who handed over that money and you’re not the only one who ended where he began, but with less money.

THE REAL method of getting what you want is putting effort into an activity.

Want wealth? Learn a skill that people value, learn marketing and actually provide value for a fee. Or get a good paying job, spend less than you make and learn to invest.

Want health? Stop eating crap, count calories, walk daily and train by doing compound movements at least three times a week for at least a year.

Want sex? Be attractive, don’t be unattractive. Learn social skills, approach or when doing online dating get good photo’s and learn to stand out. Also put in the time. 

Dating is a numbers game. You’ll get more “no’s” than “yes’s” and you have to learn to live with that.

And what do all of these things have in common? 

They take time.

Which brings me to another reason why marketing works. It gives you the idea you can get rich, jacked and or sex fast.

But nothing worth achieving comes easy and quick.

It’s All For The Greater Good

It’s all for the greater good.

It’s a nice sentiment, it really is. Many people have said it over the years. A couple of people who said it that come to my mind are:

Adolf Hitler.

Josef Stalin.

Pol Pot.

And pretty much every tyrannical dictator who has come to power has said it. It’s all for the greater good.

The “greater good” is just another ideal. It’s another container word filled with nothing except what you put into it. I promise you, Hitler, Stalin, and Pol Pot had a different idea of what the “greater good” was, than what you think it is.

In the screen shot I posted above, I was having a conversation with the individual in question. Here’s the entire conversation between the two of us:

“It’s men leading humankind toward collective greatness – for country, for glory, for God.”

I don’t think either Hitler or Stalin could have said it better. Change up the country, glory, and God container words and you have a winner. Country is nothing more than the place you reside in. Most of you were born where you live. Glory? What is glory? Being glorified for taking a bullet for someone else? Glory for giving up your time, energy, finances, and ultimately your life so that someone else may benefit from it?

What am I going to receive for signing up for your ideals? What am I going to receive for joining your cause? Spare me the bullshit about the afterlife, I’m not interested in it. There’s been no empirical evidence to suggest that God or the afterlife exist, so I’m not taking any chances there. I want my benefits and rewards in the here and now, and they had better be tangible. I had better be able to see them, touch them, taste them, use them, or at least put them in my pocket and take them home with me.

Screw your 72 virgins in the afterlife, I want them now before I blow myself into oblivion. And who said that I was going to martyr myself for your cause?

What. Is. In. It. For. Me.

Plenty of causes and ideals out there, plenty of ways to waste your time and your life on your own dime, for somebody who isn’t you or yours. Do you really want to sacrifice yourself, your time, your money, your energy, or even your life for…. Words?

Freedom and Liberty. Two more words that mean nothing by themselves. Two more container words. Like I said in my earlier post: I promise you, my idea of freedom and liberty are going to be different from yours.

I don’t know who this anonymous individual is, nor do I care so much either. What I do gather is that he is either really young and naive, perhaps under the age of 35. I get it. I too, was once young and naive. I too, used to be an idealist. I too, used to live for container words. But then I grew up and opened my eyes. It became time to put away childish things and get to the business of living and enjoying my life instead of playing word games. I hope that this individual is indeed young, because if he’s older than 35:

He’s an idiot. A useful idiot to be sure, but an idiot nonetheless. Every cause and every ideal needs useful idiots. They are the blood and sweat of the engine. They are the ones who actually believe in the container words and carry out the deeds. They are the ones who are the cannon fodder when the bullets rain down. They are also the ones who end up against the wall when it’s time for the purge, and every movement with a cause, an ideal, has a purge.

I have no patience or time for idiots, useful or otherwise. I got shit to do.

You know what’s for the greater good of me? Corned beef hash, eggs, bacon, and sourdough toast. For dinner. You know what else is for the greater good of me? Beer. And the final and most important greater good for me is…

If you guessed poontang, you would be correct.

Fuck your container words, I’m not interested in your ideals or your cause unless there is something tangible in it for me that I can receive sooner rather than later. If not, go pound sand.

You Got Me Under Pressure

On Saturday night, the 8th of May, I stayed over at the belly dancer’s house, like I typically do on every other weekend or so. We had our drinks, had our fun, shot the shit, played music, and did the stuff that most couples do.

Around midnight, I was delirious because I had slept like shit the night before. I had gone to bed around midnight on Friday night/Saturday morning and was woke up by one of my cat’s puking. I swear the sound of them “going to the club” could wake the dead. By the time that I got done dealing with puke and a miserable cat, I was too wired to go back to sleep and so I ended up staying awake for the entire rest of my Saturday. By that night I was beyond exhausted. Shortly after midnight I was out.

Around 3:30 in the morning, I hear a smoke detector going off. In my sleep deprived state, I initially thought it was part of a dream that I was having. Then I smelled smoke. It smelled like someone had extinguished a candle, but the odor was much stronger.

It was about that time that I heard my belly dancer talking to her kids. Apparently I wasn’t dreaming and the fucking smoke detector was going off. I slowly woke up and listened to her and her kids. The kids were up, which wasn’t too far of a stretch since they are mostly night owls, and I could hear that they were telling her that they hadn’t been lighting candles or doing anything else. In fact, the smoke detector had woke them up as well.

Shit.

This wasn’t a false alarm or a drill. This was the real deal. I could still smell smoke and I jumped out of bed and immediately put my pants, shirt, and socks on. I grabbed my shoes and jacket and started out of the bedroom.

My belly dancer’s daughter was in her room and I told her it was time to go and checked to make sure that everyone else was out of there. My belly dancer’s son had the dog in his arms and he was following his mom out the front door. I corralled the daughter and her boyfriend out the door and joined them on the porch. Everyone had been accounted for other than the cat.

My belly dancer was on the phone with 911 and was telling them what the situation was. About that time the smoke detector stopped doing its thing. Her son had said that he had walked around the house’s perimeter and he couldn’t see smoke or any flames. My belly dancer relayed that information to the dispatcher. This whole time I was silent and sat down and put my jacket and shoes on.

My belly dancer hung up with 911 and said that the fire department was on the way. While we were standing there, waiting, I decided to do a little investigation of my own. I wanted to see if I could find her cat (yeah right, good luck with that) and also there were a couple of rooms in the basement that hadn’t been cleared.

One thing that my belly dancer told me while I was putting my shoes on was that she had her furnace cleaned out the day before and hadn’t turned it on since the cleaning. She also mentioned that she had woke up a few minutes before the detector went off, because it was cold, and that she had turned the furnace on.

I told her that the furnace was probably burning something off from the cleaning and that that was probably the source of the smell and the smoke. I decided that was going to be part of my investigation, so back into the house I went.

The smoke smell had dissipated a lot by then. I cleared all the rooms in the upstairs first, and then went downstairs. No cat to be seen or found, which I didn’t really think I would find him. He knows his own house and bolt holes better than I do. I got to the furnace and the smoke smell was there, pretty strong. There was no visible smoke and no flames or fire.

I moved on to the other rooms to find the walls, doors, everything I touched to be ice cold. If there was a fire in there, it wasn’t close to any doors, but I wasn’t going to open them. I’ve seen Backdraft too many times. Besides, I’m no firefighter.

About the time I went back upstairs the firetruck pulled up. The crew wasn’t running lights and sirens, thank God. No need to wake the neighborhood up for no reason if that was the case.

They came in, checked the smoke detectors to make sure they weren’t malfunctioning, had their own IR camera to check the walls, ceilings, and floors for any unusual heat, and also had their own portable smoke detector to double check things.

About 20 minutes later they gave us the “all clear” and said that there was no fires going on in the house and that we could go back inside. The belly dancer told them about the furnace and they said that it was most likely the culprit and that she needed to have the HVAC people take a look at it sooner than later and make sure that everything was working okay on it. With that, they left and we went back to bed.

Now when I say we went back to bed, I could have gone back to sleep almost immediately because I was still exhausted from the prior nights lack of sleep. It was now 4:30 in the morning. Not my belly dancer though, she was wired. She wanted to talk about the last hour of events apparently.

Normally I would have told her, “Let’s talk about this later in the morning,” but I could see she needed to say whatever it was that was on her mind, and get it off her chest, so to speak.

“Every time I’m with you, I learn something new about you,” she said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Tonight, during all of this chaos, you were unshakeable. You were the calm inside the storm. You didn’t panic or freak out, or anything. If anything, you calmed me down just with your presence and your matter-of-fact attitude when it came to putting on your shoes and jacket. You didn’t seem stressed out about it at all.”

“That’s because panicking during a crisis doesn’t help anything and if anything, it makes it worse,” I told her.

“I know, but I’ve never seen you ‘under pressure,’ you know? You just seemed like, ‘I’ve got this.'”

I just shrugged and smirked at her. “Hey, it’s me.”

She was looking at me differently than usual this whole time. Her eyes were shining and I could tell that she was aroused. I could see something else there as well. Respect.

You want to know someone’s real character? See how they act and behave under pressure or during a crisis. You’ll see what they are made of. All of the bullshit, bravado, and whatever “macho façade” that they have going on will either be proven correct, or you’ll know just how full of shit they really are.