| A Love of Pain |
[Oct. 14th, 2008|10:49 pm] |
The limitations of pain are held in the mind. It is important to note that a love of pain does not necessarily come from the moment of pain itself, but from the reprieve when it is taken away. Granted, the application of pain itself, at the moment the nerves are experiencing it is its own kind of pleasure, of appreciation, but the endorphin rush comes post-pain, when the body is given rest and floods itself with reward.
With muscles it is an interesting cycle. You stretch, pull, rip and tear down the fibers so that, when they repair they repair larger, stronger and denser, more acutely tuned to the action that originally tore it down. This brings an interesting thought to mind - if you beat, cut, burn, tear and rip a person's mind down, through physical and emotional pain, does it not regrow stronger, more resilient? It is likely...but like a muscle that is stretched too far, pulled too hard, or stressed beyond - the mind can also break, become damaged and dysfunctional. It is important then, that one be careful in the application of pain to the body and the mind. While I am just as guilty of extremes with physical pain as any other dedicated individual, I must be wary, at least conscious of the potential for premature self-destruction, leaving in my wake a broken piece of myself that sets me back from achieving total tolerance, strength - ascension as it were.
Can I safely draw the conclusion that a painful and extensive means of total self-destruction would result in a death experience akin to the endorphin rush of of the muscles? Now I'm stepping into the extreme fantastic...but it is worth considering when I read of Kiroaki, cutting open his stomach, with the sun exploding in his eyes at the moment of death...this is what Mishima hinted at, and what so many labeled as a sort of necophilious obsession.
It could be surmised then, that such a process of building a temple in the body is for a cheap and shallow reason - a lust to experience some sort of ultimate pleasure response, if only for a single moment before it and the continuance of one's own reality, of one's own "life" ceases to exist. In turn, it has been reduced to a purely sexual, perhaps purely sensual, moment.
This is throwing aside twisted interpretations of honor or glory altogether. Instead, this cuts through to the masochism involved, and just how strongly that underlines the pain/pleasure fascination. Therefore, I have to ask myself - do I follow this path because I am no different than any other addict? Do I weave my addiction up and into a veneer of honor, glory and inflated self-righteousness? Or am I truly following some sort of creed that puts me in the footsteps of the other greats? Am I hiding under a mask of ideals when the truth is that I am nothing more than a deviant? |
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| Risk is Necessary |
[Oct. 2nd, 2008|11:49 am] |
| [ | Tags | | | bodybuilding | ] |
| [ | Music |
| | Marilyn Manson - The Fall of Adam | ] |
There are no arms below to catch me, no safety net to break my fall. This high wire act that is my life is all I have, it is all I know. Step after precarious step I struggle to keep my balance, too focused to look forward, too busy thinking about the next step to look back. I can’t afford the luxury to peer over my shoulder and assess how far I’ve come, because it truly means nothing in the end if I don’t make it to the other side. I’ve put myself out there, with my shit on the line, cuz it is the only way. The safety of the assured sure is seductive, but I have always known that such a life could never be mine.
The only solace I have is to know that my place will never be on the sidelines with those too scared to step out onto the wire. My only security is to know that I took the chances when others played it safe, that I anteed up when the rest folded. I will risk it all cuz that is all I know. My contingency plan has always been to die trying. I’m out here on my grind, where I belong, where I am home, where I am meant to be. If you need me, you know where to find me. I hope to see you there.
-Risk is Necessary, G Diesel |
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| Gateway to Godlike |
[Sep. 25th, 2008|08:37 pm] |
You wanna get close to God? Go hurt yourself - severely. Rip your muscles until the ringing in your ears matches the blood rushing to your head and the spots of light start to cloud your vision - beat your mind into submission, let the body destroy itself, only to rebuild that night into something harder and stronger.
Wir müssen leben bis wir sterben! Ja! |
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| The New Standard |
[Aug. 1st, 2008|09:01 pm] |
The new standard. The past is irrelevant. Your dead end town, the job you hate, your friends that can't relate, the opinions of a family that doesn't understand… All equally meaningless. Fuck the short change, the dirty deeds and the tough breaks. Forget the lapses in judgment, the flaws in character and the decisions you wish you could get back. The new standard begins today. Born of the bubbling cauldron of dreams and ambitions blended with your concept of an ideal life, mixed with the manner in wish you always wished you'd presented yourself, this teeming amalgamation must be allowed to boil over, to spill into the nooks and the crevices of your existence, drowning out the failures of yesteryear. So much of who we are is predicated on how others react to us. So much of our perception of self grows forth from the reactions of others. This new standard demands that you present yourself in a fashion befitting your stature and in turn people will treat you accordingly. Hold yourself to the dictates and demands of this lofty archetype that you yourself have established. Be damned what the world expects of you, it should pale in comparison to what you expect from yourself. For when you demand only excellence, even your low points will exceed the best days of your peers. Look in the mirror and be proud of the man you've become, hold your head high enthused over the man you're becoming. The future begins now. This is the new standard.
-Diary of a Madman, Entry #128, by G Diesel |
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| I am Legion |
[May. 12th, 2008|10:25 am] |
I am the super id. I am all your hate and prejudice without foundation, I am your fear turned to hate, your hate turned to self-loathing, self-loathing converted into pain, self inflicted, pure and clean. I am the blood boiling in your ears, I am the stars in your eyes and the black curtain of unconsciousness, I am the ruptures of bruises beneath your skin. I remind you of old ghosts, I paint them on stranger's faces. I am the alpha, and I am timeless, beyond death and without hesitation.
I am the switch, I complete the circle, and I am what your suppress, I help and harm you, I praise you and I taunt you, I hold your hand and I kick you when you are down.
I am Legion.
Let me out... |
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| "Can you spot me, please?" |
[Apr. 30th, 2008|08:05 pm] |
So I'm at the gym today having a shitty chest session and as I'm finishing up with some brutal chest stretches this guy walks up to me, a little guy and asks for a spot on bench press. He's got 135 lbs. on the bar, probably about what the guy weighed. He gave it three shots and failed every time. I pushed him though, told him he "had it" and to "kill it" and so forth. I'll tell you what, he had heart though. He pushed like Hell and that's what fucking matters. Got me thinking about my own bitching about my routine today and my own numbers. I started thinking about what this kid's background might be - had he been overlooked one too many times, had he been given shit by someone for the last time...maybe he was just fucking sick of being small, period. Whatever the reason, you could see it in his eyes, he wants that ideal bad, and he'll get it if he hangs onto that drive.
Inspiration can come out of nowhere, and this guy gave it to me. I wanna see him push 135 up next time, I wanna see him hit it twice actually. Then it's 145, maybe a half rep, next time, all the fucking way to arm lock out. I wanted to give this kid a fucking sword and shield and say "Let's fucking do this brother!" and charge through the fray. It's easy to forget about other people and their struggles a lot of the time, it's only natural really. And this kid, well, he had balls. I mean, he had to basically let some stranger watch him fail three times, but you know what the beauty of it is? He didn't fucking care, that wasn't the point - the self image, wasn't the concern, the weight and the weight alone was what he was after and he went for it, end of story. He didn't see me waiting to spot him, he didn't hear the other guys talking, it was just him and the mountain. Most people would hardly set foot in a gym in the beginning like he's at, and here he was, struggling to make his way. That shit gives me hope for everyone, in just about every way. Makes me jump at the thought of going back tomorrow and ripping my arm session to a bloody pulp, I love it.
Makes me want to become a giant fucking beast and start training others to become the same; to create the unstoppable force that is YOU and what YOU are, deep down inside. Bring it out, and go to war, fight for those ideals that roam our minds, make the intangible flesh and blood, slap the naysayers in the face with the proof of one's forced evolution.
Self transformation, reinvention, rebirth - that's what it's all about. |
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| Calf Raises |
[Apr. 29th, 2008|10:40 pm] |
Ok...so...
Whereas I thought I had weak calves and was pushing a measly 150lbs on the calf raise machine, it turns out I was pushing 300lbs. And here I was chastising myself for having weak calves.
Rawr bitches. |
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| The Will |
[Apr. 18th, 2008|01:27 pm] |
Your anger gives you great power, but if you let it, it will destroy you.
The will is everything...the will to act.
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| The Gym Rat Room |
[Apr. 16th, 2008|09:19 am] |
If you're going to look at me, either give a nod or look the fuck away.
If you're going to stare at me, don't back down when my eyes lock on yours.
If you're going to glance at me, keep walking by.
If you're going to keep looking at me, come talk to me; otherwise...
Let's go to battle.
I have high expectations for all of you, I'll set you on a pedestal when no one else in this world will. Why? Even your half-assed efforts at physical improvement go a long way beyond those that sit back as armchair critics.
We all have a long way to go. There is always someone bigger, more defined, stronger - do we sit and dwell on the different stages of progress? No, we push forward, one more rep, more more meal, one more goddamn day toward the end of the line.
I wanna see you sweat, bear your teeth because the pain is so uncomfortable, I wanna see your body shake with exhaustion as you try to push yourself beyond your muscular limits. I wanna see you half rep when your mind screams STOP! I wanna see you sit down fighting off the stars in your eyes from the strain of your lifts. Do you think you're going to get anywhere taking it easy? If you're going to lift, you're going to have to learn to love pain if you want to progress. Go, go, go, lay waste to yourself so tomorrow you are reborn anew.
Be fearless. |
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| Tyler Durden Wisdom |
[Apr. 7th, 2008|02:57 pm] |
All we want is a headrush
All we want is to get out of our skin for a while
We have nothing to lose because we don't have anything
Anything we want anyway...
We used to hate people
Now we just make fun of them
It's more effective that way
We don't live
We just scratch on day to day
With nothing but matchbooks and sarcasm in our pockets
And all we are waiting for is for something worth waiting for
Let's admit America gets the celebrities we deserve
Let's stop saying "Don't quote me" because if no one quotes you
You probably haven't said a thing worth saying
We need something to kill the pain of all that nothing inside
We all just want to die a little bit
We fear that pop-culture is the only culture we're ever going to have
We want to stop reading magazines
Stop watching T.V.
Stop caring about Hollywood
But we're addicted to the things we hate
We don't run Washington and no one really does
Ask not what you can do for your country
Ask what your country did to you
The only reason you're still alive is because someone
Has decided to let you live
We owe so much money we're not broke we're broken
We're so poor we can't even pay attention
So what do you want?
You want to be famous and rich and happy
But you're terrified you have nothing to offer this world
Nothing to say and no way to say it
But you can say it in three languages
You are more than the sum of what you consume
Desire is not an occupation
You are alternately thrilled and desperate
Skyhigh and fucked
Let's stop praying for someone to save us and start saving ourselves
Let's stop this and start over
Let's go out - let's keep going
This is your life - this is your fucking life
We need something to kill the pain of all that nothing inside
Quit whining you haven't done anything wrong because frankly
You haven't done much of anything
KMFDM - Dogma
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| A More Dangerous Sun |
[Mar. 31st, 2008|08:16 pm] |
Alone, my window is open, I begin my routine. Tonight is chest night, so it's primarily a lot of bench press variants, flat, incline, dumbbell - for the time being. The storm picks up outside midway into my routine, and thunder begins crashing down, chasing its lightning brethren. Music going, for a moment, I am part of that ideal I have in my mind - each rep, I can make out the lightning flashes in my room between the black spots and spirals of exhaustion in my vision, the thunder echoes around, reinforcing my need to breathe, pushing upward, upward, upward.
I stand at the window, I now see a sickly, pale light flooding the green and grays - the sun, just over the houses, burns a bale fire green, it's round shape now evident by the suffocation of the storm it seeks to extinguish - it is then, sweating, tired and sore that Mishima echoes in my mind:
"Thus I glimpsed from time to time another sun quite different from that by which I had been so long blessed, a sun full of the fierce dark flames of feeling, a sun of death that would never burn the skin yet gave forth a still stranger glow.
This second sun was essentially far more dangerous to the intellect than the first sun had ever been. It was this danger more than anything else that delighted me."
Yukio Mishima - Sun & Steel, p. 44
For just a moment, that strange light cascading over me and washing my room away into some strange and lost vista of legends long past. |
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| The Rising of the Tide |
[Mar. 20th, 2008|03:02 pm] |
The Rising of the Tide
To a certain degree, the modern warrior must seek to define his surroundings. One must never let the circumstances of their daily life or the atmosphere of the places they choose to inhabit...dictate the way in which they live their life. Your depth of character and your level of commitments should be evident to all those who cross your path...without you having to say a word...or plant your "hardcore" flag in the sand. Much power lies in words that are unspoken. Many battles are waged without actual battle lines being drawn. We...as modern athletes in our own right...must operate as cells. Power cells. If Bla Bla Bla Family Fitness Center doesn't want us...we don't want them. We will find an adequately outfitted weight room somewhere...or we will pool our resources and create a new weight room stocked with the tools of our warfare...the tools of our trade. Those tools, that rub the flesh from our palms until they are raw...they are no different...or of any less value than the chisel of a renowned sculptor.
As I have said many times, it is pointless and futile to waste precious energy trying to win acceptance or adoration from people who do not respect our way of life. There is a new wind blowing this time around...intolerance isn't as popular as it once was...we are stronger now than we have ever been before...we are armed with the knowledge derived from countless un-named troopers who tore themselves apart over years of painstaking experimentation...their quest was to become something different...to challenge the very concept of evolution.
We are engaged in hyper-evolution...and we are empowered by our own mortality...mortality is nothing more than a reminder to move your fucking ass like you have a purpose. Your mortality should serve to motivate you beyond anything that I...or any man could say to you...it is your birthright...and a big part of your destiny to call on the strength of those who came before...use their strength and defy any category or judgment...defy those who would seek to disillusion you...defy those who would try to restrict your growth of spirit or physical presence...defy any man or any group of men who would block your path...when they tell you what you are...you say FUCK THAT...and then you show them WHO you are. Together...together is the only way we can stand against the rising of the tide. We will see who is left standing when its all said and done. With brothers like you...I wouldn't bet against me.
-Anthony Giordonello "MACHINE" |
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| Are you the future, or are you the past? |
[Mar. 19th, 2008|07:58 pm] |
Every waking moment provides the opportunity to redefine and reinvent one's self. The great tragedy is that so many of us fail to recognize this. We are gifted with the capability to shrug off our lifestyle, our ideologies, our habits and embrace a totally new system. We have the great powers of destruction and creation at our disposal, yet we walk through our lives with the desperation of the hopeless.
We spiral backward to the "used to be" and the "could have been" when the road stretches out before us. Fuck the past, fuck your transgressions, fuck your mistakes - all that matters are the reigns in your hands NOW and the road that stretches out and over the horizon. Time to move forward; let not the reflections of the traveled road distract you from your tomorrow.
For me, physical reinvention is the only way, it is the only spiritual bridge back to the road, especially in a world of low expectations and jaded criticisms. Shrug off your cold objectification of human existence and embrace your own subjectiveness; do not be chained by scrutinies of a progressive and dead majority - it seeks only to hold you in bondage with its wit and assertion.
Stand up and scowl at the mediocrity around you. Do not be one to run in-between the raindrops, do not be one to slump forward, head down in shame, do not be one to crawl back into silence for comfort, do not accept the limitations this life tries to force on you - your master is no one, your chains are only your own.
Break the fucking chains. |
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| Raise the Black Flag |
[Mar. 12th, 2008|12:03 pm] |
I'll be the one to protect you from
Your enemies and all your demons
I'll be the one to protect you from
A will to survive and a voice of reason
I'll be the one to protect you from
Your enemies and your choices son
They're one and the same
I must isolate you
Isolate and save you from yourself
Swayin' to the rhythm of the new world order and
Counting bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drums
The boogeymen are coming
The boogeymen are coming
Keep your head down, go to sleep
To the rhythm of the war drums
Pet - A Perfect Circle |
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| Vascularity |
[Mar. 8th, 2008|11:36 pm] |
Over time, aside from new contours, ridges and curves that denote muscle swelling, growth and hardening, you'll start to see a spiderweb of veins slowly push to the surface. The most obvious are those of the biceps. At first, these little pipelines will surface during exercise and all but disappear after the work is done. Little by little, as the weeks roll by you'll start to see new pipelines below the surface. Where there was one the week before, you'll now see a split, a fork in the vein that runs down the arm, or across the shoulder, or through the pectoral, a new path cutting over and through the muscles that have stretched beneath the skin.
This is the road map for greatness. These blue lines you see just under the surface are compass toward the size and power you're chasing after...this is the sort of sign that should give you hope. Over time, these pipes will break through the surface and run a maze over the muscles, the blue tint gone, these pipes will bulge and stretch over the body as a testament to the hard work and painful hours put in under the iron. |
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| Beta Torrent PWO Supplement |
[Mar. 3rd, 2008|10:30 pm] |
I received my beta tub of a post workout supplement called Torrent by Universal Nutrition (the company that pushes the Animal line of products). They are considering marketing a new flavor and picked some guys to test it out. It has protein, carbs and creatine in it to feed the muscles right after exercise. The shit goes for $50 on reseller sites for 6 lbs. of product, so previously I wasn't buying it (expensive for me). So I'm testing this stuff and I love it and now I wanna start buying it.
The bastards, all part of their plan.
Still, it's great to have free stuff and to give back to the community.
Shit has settled down somewhat here at home and what not. Sometimes things in life just pop up and slap the living shit out of you leaving you going "what the hell just happened and why now?" Well, that's definitely the case. Where I go from here, well...nothing worthwhile is easy now is it? Growth is painful, lonely and difficult, but it's necessary.
Oh, and I fucking hate traffic. I miss going to work way way early already. |
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| Salvation |
[Feb. 25th, 2008|10:04 pm] |
You wanna know what's spiritual to me?
Pulling the weight, the body shaking like a fucking bombshell, sweat pouring out of screaming, acidic muscles, the bite of cold steel into the hands, the burning and peeling away of dead skin, blood trickling down over the bar, the heart firing like a machine gun, the lungs expanding and blasting air like a cannon. This is war, this is pain, this is courage in the face of physical extremity. Pain is the equalizer of a Man's character. All your hate, all your frustration, all your regret funneled into that one lift. Every success a triumph, every failure fuel for the next muscle-tearing endeavor to say "fuck you" to mediocrity. And at the end of the storm, your body stops its shaking, the muscles push the nutrient-rich blood through and through, bulging with strained power and defiance. Everything gets quiet, every breath more rewarding, every resting action more nurturing.
This is my salvation, this is my temple.
The hard and strong will never surrender. |
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| The Power of One |
[Jan. 20th, 2008|03:41 pm] |
"The good life can fuck you up. The good life makes you soft. The good life fills your ears with a sweet music that makes you forget... Forget that mission, who you are, what matters. Shit, after a while, all you want is to hear that damn music. And that music drowns everything out, including that voice in your head. Most people go through their lives, numb, preferring to listen to the music, to themselves talk, to everything but that voice... They lose their way. I'm lucky--most days, that voice inside my head is wailing like a fucking siren. It's so loud it keeps me up nights, keeps me honest. It won't let me forget. But when I get too many good days piling up one on top of the other, too much of that good life, well, I plug my ears and roll up my sleeves. I pick up the hammer and get to hammering. After all, without that voice, I wouldn't be who I am... Who I can be.
This is important... Do not forget. Do not drown in the music. Listen to your voice... It's saying something.
To the naysayers, I say your words will fall on deaf ears. To the doubters, take your misgivings elsewhere. To the envious, do not desire what we will achieve. I will beat back mediocrity with a fierce hand, will demolish conformity, so that when it’s time to cash in my chips, I won’t leave a legacy of regret, that I didn’t go for mine. In each one of us lies the power to start something... So to those of you out there who can hear, let me say again, who are you and will you stand with me?"
-Wrath, "The Journey" |
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| Animal Barbell Club |
[Jan. 6th, 2008|08:23 am] |
I'm still recuperating from the first Saint Louis Missouri Animal Barbell Club that took place yesterday. It was well worth it. There were six of us and we gave the weight HELL. Animalpak.com sent us a big box full of free supplement samples, a couple of skullies and some of the new Animal Owner's Manuals. It was leg day - lots of barbell squats, machine leg presses and donkey calf raises - pure pain.
It was funny to see so many guys in there working arms to death - there was no else at all using leg equipment, kind of funny.
I got some great advice on my squat, and stiff-legged deadlift form too, so that's gonna help me when I'm on my own. We all went out for steaks afterward too - it's about as close to a piece of barbarian lifestyle as a Man can get and I fuckin' loved it. We're all sore as hell (I nearly fell out of my car when I got home) and I'm walking around like an old man, but it's great - the muscles have been severely broken down and stretched, full of lactic acid, so it's protein, protein, protein to pump those muscles full of nutrient-rich blood to get them growing.
I'm addicted to the pain. Great shit, can't wait for the next one. |
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| The Journey |
[Dec. 18th, 2007|11:33 pm] |
During my undergrad, one of my favorite courses was concerning mythology, but most notably Joseph Campbell's concept of the heroic, and the "heroic journey" that all great myths portray in one form or another. The above is from Warcraft 3 and details the final journey the hero takes that ultimately leads to transition from hero to villain. While it does have certain campy elements, I think the scene is powerful and its symbolism can apply to all things we chase after. The isolation, the winding path, the harsh, cold weather and the foreboding prize at the top. The helmet, the catalyst toward great or terrible things, represents our final option to run away or push through to that final end, no matter the cost.
This is where computer games, at the present, fail me. I'll concede that I let myself get carried away with romantic ideals, but I can't seem to avoid it. Where the above cinematic is one illusion, the game mechanics of say, World of Warcraft are an entirely different entity. In an interview, the CEO of Blizzard made the comment that "we have over 9 million players in Azeroth" - and I immediately thought "9 million heroes means there are no heroes". This is the disconnect for me, no matter how many times I return to these worlds the expectations never match the reality of the system.
There are no solitary ascents upon snowy peaks, there is no Frostmourne sword destined for one person. Everything is available to all, and only to those in large groups. Players cannot become part of the mythology of these worlds, they exist outside of it, always separated, always looking in.
Am I the only one with this confused state of mind? Perhaps I'm too difficult to please, or my standards are absurdly high. Perhaps I'm brainwashed by Hollywood. Still...I can't help but hope for a journey all my own, with my own destiny waiting at the top of the mountain. |
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