As obesity barrels through the Western World with the ferocity of the CSX 8888 more and more people are turning to the phrase: accept me for who I am.
I don’t accept pedophiles for who they are. I don’t accept ignorant fools for who they are.
I won’t accept the obese who give up on themselves and demand that I respect their lifestyle choices.
I recently came across a blogger who embodies the opposite of everything I believe in.
(I decided to make the link copy and paste, not because I’m worried about the “backlash” against my commentary, but to avoid the possibility of the comments being pointless. I want open honest discussion on this blog, but after a moment of thought I realized I was opening up to the possibility of dealing with rapid armchair commentators whose feelings are hurt.)
This author is overweight and has decided to show off his naked body. He claims that he is tired of being “ashamed” of his body and embraces who he is. (He’s also hairy, but I don’t care about that. Hair is masculine and its preference is individualistic, not gonna hate on that.)
BMI is one of those measurements like IQ. You can know perfectly well that it’s a bullshit metric based on a whole bunch of flawed assumptions, but you still want to know your number. And once you know it, you can’t get away from it. Mine is just over the line where “overweight” turns into “obese”. It’s hard to come out and say that, hard to admit to being one of the people our culture loves to shame and deride as weak and disgusting and horrible. But ya know what, I’ve tried the easy stuff and it hasn’t worked worth a damn, so I’m going to plan B.
The simple solutions did not work. The snake oil he was sold turned out to be a farce.
What is his solution. Does he attempt to take his own life into his hands and work hard.
Does he wake up in the morning to go running, hit the gym, eat better, walk more, take the stairs.
Nay. He goes onto plan B. Showing off his pasty body with glee.
“Look at me” he yells from his arm chair as his laptop rests upon his gut.
“This is what a real man looks like, this is what a man who is unashamed of himself sees when he gets out of the shower” he cries with quivering chins.
Some folks will say I’m not fat enough to be doing this. Others will say I’m too fat to be doing this. Both groups can feel free to go piss up a rope. I’m not doing this for them, I’m doing it for me. And maybe for you.
What a selfless hero this author is. He is showing us mortals how unenlightened we are. He is our savior that has come to free us from the shackles of self image. He is here to show us that being healthy and fit is not what we should strive for.
This self righteous scumbag is literally defecating on the hard work of all the people on www.reddit.com/r/loseit
The souls that have taken on the challenge of reclaiming their life are the ones that deserve our applause.
This man deserves nothing more than scorn for he is an attention whore who hides behind the veil of “self-confidence.”
I will shame you and the wares you peddle. You do not give people solutions, you attempt to give them a rationalization, you want to give them a way out. Dr. Kevorkian.
You sir. Quit. You sir are attempting to make yourself feel better because you are not comfortable in your skin and require others like you to sing you praise in the comments of your blog.
You want to feel better about yourself, then make yourself into the person you wish to be.
Put in the blood, sweat, and tears. Put in the hours. Put in the sacrifices.
Stop being a Quitter.
Become a success story. Like this kid:
Come at me haters.
Roosh V has been kind enough to send me another Bang guide. Now I have never had the pleasure of reading his country specific books, this one in particular was very dear to me.
As some of you readers may have Sherlocked, I have Polish heritage. I speak the language fluently and have spent almost every summer up to my 19th birthday visiting. I know Polish girls quite well. This allowed me to read the book as someone who understands the culture and the females. An insider with the ability to verify the writings.
I personally verify the writing of Roosh V on the topic of Polish women.
Now before I begin, I want to say that this book’s knowledge only applies to women in Poland. The game necessary to use in the States, and I imagine in other countries would have to be tweaked. There of course is a different way to talk to Polish girls with predominantly Western friends and Polish girls whose whole social circle is mostly Polish while they’re from the USA. Those are completely different animals to deal with.
Roosh’s guide is not only informational, but it is filled with insights that could only be gleamed by an outsider who has taken the time to immerse themselves in the culture.
At the writing of this post, he hits it on the money on both how the girls behave and how to talk to them.
In particular what I found interesting is reading how he conquered the language barrier with a number of women. Perseverance.
I never had the experience, but I am inspired to start speaking English first and then later on potentially switching over to Polish. The end part of the book is filled with Roosh stories and they’re a great fun read.
He obviously did not touch on all the cities in Poland, but he covered the main ones. More importantly he breaks down exactly what months and times are best to visit any particular area. This is crucial and you will easily understand when you read the book.
I have followed Roosh’s endeavors for a while. Throughout the last two years if not more, he has continually been attacked for his works and his lifestyle. He has been continually called a misogynistic sex tourist and the haters continually spew unsubstantiated vitriol. In this book he comes out with the honesty that has become the centerpiece of his work: he loves the women in Poland because they are exactly what every man seeks, a feminine woman.
If you plan on going to Poland, this is the only book you should pick up.
If you plan on going to Poland, do it soon. It also helps if you’re not British and in a stag party.
One of the greatest behemoths that traverse on land are the elephants. They are a regal creature that embody power, strength, and grace. However they can easily be tamed. Domesticated.
I remember reading about elephants and the more I read they more I realized that they are similar to us humans. In particular one aspect of the elephants nature struck me with a ferocity: how easily they are subdued. Neutered.
When an elephant is young, trainers attach a chain or rope to their leg. This chain or rope is then attached to a peg in the ground. While the elephant is young the rope or chain is strong enough to keep the elephant attached. What is astonishing is that the same strength rope or chain will forever keep the elephant from breaking free.
How can this majestic and strong beast be subdued by a relatively flimsy rope. The answer my dear readers is simple. As a young beast, the elephant learns that the rope keeps it from breaking free. As it grows older and stronger the memory of past failures is front and center in the mind of the elephant. It no longer tries to break free because it believes that it can not. Indoctrination.
How many people do you know that are like the domesticated elephants. They have a vast amount of potential and yet previous failures keep them from breaking free of their own self imposed shackles. How many times has a painful memory kept you from attaining the greatness that is within your own being. Coulda woulda shoulda.
The past is a vicious succubus. She continually haunts your dreams and memory. She digs her claws into your psyche, all she requires is one bad experience.
One rejection and you begin to doubt your ability to sleep with a model.
One scrape and you decide that you will never be a great gymnast.
One broken nose and you fear getting hit.
One bad recital and you give up your musical aspirations.
Within you is a vast reservoir or potential that you cap due to a past that should be inconsequential. You, like the elephant find yourself to be compromised because you remember one moment that history has forgotten.
Dear reader I want you to understand something.
No one remembers the silly things you have done in the past. They only have a vague recollection which if you are so inclined you can easily modify.
No one remembers when you fell on your ass.
No one remembers when that girl rejected you at the bar.
No one remembers when you froze up in stage fright.
What people remember is what happens in the present. This is what adds to their recollection of who you are as a person.
They remember that you claim to need more beer before you can talk to the girl.
They remember that you refused to go explore an abandoned building.
They remember you flaked on an engagement.
Do not let your past hold you back. That was then, this is now. You have grown, you have learned. Now you must tear the chains that hold you to the past and explore the wondrous world before you.
Today is a new day.
The air is fresh.
The grass is green.
The girls are wearing sundresses.