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Faith in Self-Improvement
Rusty Asks the Crackpot about Why Fighters Train
© 2021 James LaFond
Rusty Aftertaste of Rusty Vignettes recently had a conversation with me concerning "why we train."
I suspect he was considering the podcast he monologued below.
I beleive he had been discussing this concept with Richard Barrett of Pulp Fiction Renaissance.
The subject matter was related to masculine spirituality and keyed on a self-help guru's contention that men—or certain kinds of men—distinguish themselves through combat training based on a faith that self-sacrifice will result in self-improvement.
I have been pondering this and considering the many facets of my training. Why have I devoted a significant portion of my life to training for a combat that I am also devoted to making sure does not happen?
I have done this against the wishes, desires, judgements and worry of freinds and family.
I have also received sigificant injury training and competing—that being a necessary part of high level training—a test of that ability attainment.
Further I have lost most of my training partners, most of the fighters I once coached, all of the fighters I might once coach, as the Brovid Jiveteen world has become totally fake, gay, phony and lame.
Why did I begin training at age 11, against my parents wishes, even after my pediatrician and my Ultra-Masculine football coach Uncle told me that it was impossible for white men to box, that the inferior shape of my head and my pallid skin meant that I would never effectively be able to fist fight?
I did have faith that I could become stronger, tougher, meaner, faster.
I was in early puberty, changing smelling bad like a beast, sprouting hair and hideous pimples all over my body.
I had experienced the magic of masculine transformation.
I also saw Roberto Duran fight—a man my size—and had a desire to be that terrible, that savage, that pitiless.
I had also read my first paperback book, Master Mind of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs, and being retarded, believed that there must be a portal to another world, a place where the entire thing was not dedicated to keeping you a sissy. Sure, if only John Carter made it through, what were my chances of finding it—especially with no Apaches hunting me? But I thought that I should at least be prepared to step through that portal.
Not permitted to box, my first training was standing in the bathroom and holding a stone and hitting myself in the face with it until it bruised. When Mom asked, I just said that someone had hit me and not to worry about it.
That all fits with the self-improvement cultism.
Why do I train now?
I am 58, with two hernias, so will never get stronger. In fact, I was my strongest at age 15 and have never been able to equal any of the physical feast I could do then, primarily because of injuries and then age on top of that.
It is not possible for an athletic man my age to get faster.
I might be able to speed up some dodo through technical training. But John Mugabi or this never-was cracker is not getting any faster.
Every time I have pushed for more stamina since age 50, I have injured myself or have gotten sick.
I am sure that there are money making gurus out there that would deny these facts, would get on their stage and talk about the power of positive thinking, etc., ...because they make their money off of faith. When we lose faith their cash flow suffers.
Look, a knee gets so many miles.
A shoulder can throw so many punches.
A hand can handle X amount of stick or ax or hammer strokes and then it wears out.
I have no faith and no reasonable expectation that my old, oft-injured and clinically way over-used body will ever get better at anything.
So why do I train now?
For a while I told myself it was so that I could get better at coaching.
But my desire to coach is gone.
Coaching is now an exercise in masked gayness, homo-sloppia dance class money-making by scumbag gym operators.
I do have some reasons to train that have nothing at all to do with faith or with self improvement.
-1. Maintenance
I am simply trying to maintain what I can of the abilities I have won, to slow the sure terminal erosion of my once significant combat ability.
-2. Enjoyment
Although the fаggot masses of Planet Faggοtron equate training with suffering—I have always liked it. I enjoy the exertion. There is a an enjoyable, tantric quality to the weapon evolutions and the shadow boxing.
-3. Nostalgia
I can still remember when I was young, and rather than watch Happy Days or listen to some heavy metal fаggot sing, I prefer a re-experience.
-4. Punishment
I am a loser, have failed at everything that ever meant anything deeply within me, and deserve to suffer for my failure to elevate myself. I say, "Fuck you LaFond," every time I look in the mirror for the first time in the goddamned day.
-5. Identity
The only thing that saw me through more than 38 years of life, the thing that is going to make me enjoy frightening Bantu warriors in Baltimore City tomorrow night as I walk my old haunts is my identity—I am a fighter; and what is more, I am evil. I like to fight and the wimps of the world thrive on their faith that people that look like me will not fight. For a few nights I will be Dracula again.
-6. Hatred
I hate the world my prison, its inmates, its corrections officers and it's tranny warden—a Cringeworthy Whore named Western Civilization. I want to remain strong enough to defy her to the end, to not call the cops when I am attacked, to not call the paramedics when I am injured, to not call the doctor when I am sick, to be able to stab the cop that has been called to make me mask up outside in the be able to spit in disgust as Mister Blew presses his boot to my old chicken neck—I want to be strong enough when I die to snarl hate back at the world.
-7. ?
I have another reason that I have to keep to myself—I wouldn't want you all to think I'm strange or insane or anything.
Thank you, Rusty, and Richard and El Vid—the super-spreader friend of mine that sent the following last night.

Below a friend of mine sent me an email that lends a clue as to why a man should train, whether there is any hope of self-improvement at all:
Ancient emasculation
El Vid
Sun, Apr 4, 8:23 PM (12 hours ago)
Battle Beagle (@HarmlessYardDog) Tweeted:
The Histories by Herodotus
>forbid them to possess weapons of war
>train their sons to play the lyre and the harp
>they have become women instead of men
>no fear that they will revolt
The Hinterbeast Roared…
pulp fiction renaissance
Shrill Heresy Whispered the Spears of Barbary…
the gods of boxing
song of the secret gardener
winter of a fighting life
time & cosmos
on combat
the greatest boxer
taboo you
book of nightmares
z-pill forever
into leviathan’s maw
songs of aryas
under the god of things
the first boxers
son of a lesser god
america the brutal
advent america
broken dance
honor among men
menthol rampage
barbarism versus civilization
orphan nation
dark, distant futures
the sunset saga complete
fiction anthology one
your trojan whorse
the lesser angels of our nature
the year the world took the z-pill
on the overton railroad
blue eyed daughter of zeus
night city
the fighting edge
the greatest lie ever sold
the combat space
when you're food
by the wine dark sea
masculine axis
logic of force
thriving in bad places
logic of steel
solo boxing
within leviathan’s craw
let the world fend for itself
nc     Apr 6, 2021

Physical training of any type after 3 decades of life only does one thing-it reduces the rate of decay.

When are you on Mot20C again?
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