Parkour - The (no longer just) Human Art of Freerunning

Last night I dreamed that all animals (except humans) had suddenly evolved the concept of parkour.

As a result, governments, the world over decided that animals were evolving, thinking beings and therefore were no long allowed to be eaten or held in captivity.

The results were alarming and astounding.

The entire world changed.

The world was a lot less safe for humans.

Standing at the bus stop, a horse comes clip-clopping along at full-speed and runs sideways off a telephone pole, never breaking stride.

Everyone is stunned.

As I walk down my street, lions, one-up one another off parked cars, making them almost useless to their owners.

It's beautiful, but it kinda freaks me out.

Also, I really liked that car.

Nearby, a giraffe does a running flip over a fence and nearly crushes a group of construction workers.

They are speechless.

The people are scared and productivity slows.

Politicians scurry to pass laws protecting humans from these new ultra-aggressive athletes and as the animals had no care or concept of law, the legislation passes through unabated.

And soon I am seeing animals getting arrested and forced to go to the zoo, having no understanding of the machine that they are caught up in

I can't help but think that the humans are the problem.

And I am not alone..

Tens of thousands march..

We scream and cry and make up chants and make signs

We demand JUSTICE!!

You cannot lock up our citizens just for being THEMSELVES!!

You can not put them in a place called THE ZOO!!!

So politicians change the name to something that sounds more pleasant...

Animal Recreation Centers or ARCs...yeah that seems like a good place for animals.

And they hide the facilities so we don't have to feel bad or think about it.

"Did you hear about what happened to Bingo?"

"He's doing 2-5 out on the ARC for knocking some lady's Starbucks out of her hand."

"Some time on the ARC will do him good. Calm his ass down."

There are fat men on the radio and skinny men on TV...

Saying that animals are a nuisance and we should all start eating them again.

And the whole eating thing is embarrassing to some of us.

We wish THAT never happened and we have a lot of human-guilt about it.

We wear a lot of shirts bragging about our veganism...

And hope the animals evolve the ability to read at some point..

And some of us still drive to the industrial part of town to see the animal victims of justice.

But it is not like going to The Zoo.

Things have changed...

Things have evolved..

No longer do we go to watch them.

Because now we have realized that it's not polite to stare and point.

We go only to VISIT them...

To listen to them..

To tell them that our hearts are in there with them

We are much to humbled to stare, point or take pictures

We just look in their eyes and smile

And talk to them about human parkour athletes that we saw on the tele...

And ask them how they are feeling...

And wait for them to do some of those sweet parkour moves.

Cool Spy-Like Maneuvers

When I see an armored car doing a drop off...

I always watch them very closely..

Looking for errors.

Errors that would allow me to rob them successfully.

And without confrontation.

My brain constructs elaborate plans.

Getaways involving multiple cars and well-timed maneuvers.

No Fast and Furious style drifting here.

No guns. No violence.

Just simple blending in...and cool spy-like moves.

My favorite part is where I rip off my mustache, wrap it up in my hoodie and toss the incriminating items into a dumpster in an alley behind a coffee shop (5 minutes before pickup)...

Where I walk in, smile, order my usual and sit down to update my Facebook status about something mundane and silly, while waiting for the local news to come on so I can hear about the armored car robbery...

Where they show security camera footage of a mustachioed man in a hat and sunglasses, calmly walking by and taking the loot...

And a few seconds later a befuddled armored car driver looking around cluelessly for the bag.

I smile wide at the police sketch artist as I think "That guy looks nothing like me." but then my eyes grow wide as I say "Am I really THAT fat?"

The lady on the TV says that the driver has been suspended.

To make this right I put a bunch of bills in a bag and mail it to him anonymously...

Along with a note that says "I won't tell if you won't."

I'd never actually do it.

But in my head I am really damn good at it.

Mothers and Daughters

Do moms sit their little girls down and say...

"Now sweetie, when you grow up, I want you to date the most heinous, evil, piece of shit asshole men you can find...

I want you to repeat this pattern over and over and over again...

Until you are about 35.. and then once your self-esteem has been completely destroyed and you no longer feel like you are deserving of love...

And your tits start to go south...and wrinkles start to form...

And you, having bought into society's lie, that your physical beauty is your true value..

And you truly hate yourself and the choices you have made...

And the asshole men who you gave your youth to..

Are still fucking women half their age and your bitter heart wants to castrate them for it..

After all this happens, sweetie...

I want you to completely change up your approach and find a really, stable, nice, boring fucking guy who will take all your shit and never leave you...

And I want you to marry that man.

Even if you don't really like him that much.

Because at this point, you will believe that is all you are worth."

Is this a conversation that mom's have with their daughters

Or do women just do that shit on their own?

2:00 AM or The Time I Got Stuck In the Snow In The Hood and a Bunch of Black Dudes Surrounded My Vehicle

Returning home after 1 am this morning...from visiting friends and exchanging late Christmas gifts...nearly home...feeling cocky...explaining to my kids, Clark Griswald style, that it's all about driving..."People don't know how to drive in this shit...if you keep cool and keep moving, momentum will carry you through."

God, sick of listening to me, stops my vehicle cold.

We are stuck.

Right in the middle of the road.

Just a few blocks from our home.

Spin...spin...forward...reverse...forward...reverse...the smell of burning rubber.

The gas gauge is on E...I cannot do this rocking back and forth thing for much longer or I will be stuck in the snow and out of gas as well.

A bunch of black guys start walking towards our van.

Now when people tell a story and they say "black guy" or "Asian lady" I always stop them and say "Is this person's skin tone essential to the telling of your story?"

In this case it is, because it may be self-implicating.

I wonder if I was more afraid due to the fact that these young men were black.

I analyze it against, imagining a group of white guys coming up on my van like that and I think I would have been just as scared considering the time and place.

But I wonder...

As I exited the vehicle I could hear my own words in my head, the words I have said in defense of my neighborhood a thousand times...

"This area isn't so bad. Don't be out on foot late at night and you will be alright. All those people you see on the news are always getting shot at like 2:00 AM. Nothing good is going on around here at 2:00 AM."

I look at my iPhone and think about how it is currency for thieves.

It says it is 1:47 AM an then it ominously powers down.

Taking the safety off my weapon I get out and say "Sup guys." realizing in my British Peacoat, Old Navy sweater and graying bead, that I am completely lacking in street cred.

"We thought we would try to push you out." one of them says.

Slightly relieved, adrenaline still coursing through my veins. I can no longer tell if I am just a father trying to protect his children or some kind of racist who has fooled himself into believing that he was evolved.

"It's been a long day. Just need to get this van unstuck and I'll figure it out tomorrow." I say to myself.

I start to say "Good lookin out", but remembering my Old Navy sweater, I say "Oh thanks guys. I appreciate the help." and we all start to push.

We push hard...we get it rocking back and forth...my sense of guilt increases with each failed attempt...finally one of them says "Man, I'm gonna run home and grab a shovel."

"Where do you live?" I ask.

"Just a few blocks thatta way." he points.

"Nah man. You guys get to where you are going. Thanks so much for your help, but it is freezing out here. I just live a few blocks away. I'm going to walk home...change outta these wet clothes...grab my shovel and come back and dig myself out."

With that, we shook hands, and the kids and I started walking home.

...

When we got home I told my teenage son to get into some dry clothes and to come help me.

As we got back to the van it was ridiculously cold. The wind was whipping and we were using the shovels to steady ourselves.

I reluctantly handed my son a piece and said "I doubt you will have to use this, but just in case."

I was grateful for all those trips to the shooting range and the firearms safety courses. It was a strange feeling knowing that my little boy was no longer a little boy, but someone who could save my life if worst came to worst.

The thought of my son having to shoot someone disturbed me, but not as much as the thought of someone shooting him.

I wondered if all that target practice and thousands of hours of Call of Duty would translate into him being able to put someone down if we were put in a life or death situation.

Then I told myself to stop thinking such horrible thoughts.

It's 2:00 AM in Emerson Heights...it is -20 with the windchill and we are all business.

...

We began digging.

The cold biting.

About every 10 minutes we would get in the van and try to rock our way out.

Nothing changed.

Digging and more digging.

I hadn't seen a car for an hour.

Tires spinning.

Frustration growing.

Digging..digging...

I knew if I left it here my mini-van would be gone in the morning.

Impounded...hundreds of dollars to get it out...missed work...we had to get this done.

Digging...digging...breaking through ice...silent discouragement...no talking...

Digging...

...

A set of headlights approach.

As it comes into view my I see it is a 4X4 truck with tinted windows.

It stops directly behind us.

I try to see through the windshield, but I cannot so I keep digging.

The tension in my body mounts as the truck sits there, idling.

I think of Henry Gates.

I think of American Psycho.

I think of No Country for Old Men.

I reach in my pocket to make sure my salvation is still there and for the second time I take the safety off.

The truck backs up and goes around us, driving over the curb, with great ease, in the process.

Frosty air comes from my son's mouth as he says "What a dick! It was harder for him to go around then it would have been for him to help us!"

Then the truck stops and slowly backs up toward us.

It comes to a stop and yet again nothing happens.

I continue to dig and finally...fucking finally...one of the doors open.

I reach in my pocket and wait.

I look at my son.

He has stopped shoveling and has his hand in the pocket of his coat.

"Well ...well...well...what have we here? Front wheel drive, huh?"

A man approaches with a chain, kneels down and hooks it to the trailer hitch on his truck.

"I told you if you need anything to just give me a call." and with that I recognize the voice and when he turnes around I see the smiling face of my friend Tony.

"Oh my god, dude. You saved my ass!!"

"Yeah these things got some power, but front wheel drive. That's the problem. They can't really pull you out once you get stuck." he says affixing the other end of the chain to my vehicle.

"Dude I thought you were gonna kill us. Why did you sit in your truck so long behind us like that?"

"Oh, I was just trying to see if I could push you out, but I was afraid I would bust your tail-lights, the way these line-up." he pauses "Thought I was gonna kill you, huh? No I've been drivin around in this gettin people unstuck all night. This thing will drive through anything."

"Let me know if you need anything else."

And with that, he was off.

Never have I appreciated the warmth of my home so much.

Never have I been so grateful for good friends...and good strangers...who become friends..when situations that require us to stick together arise.

I was grateful for the struggle and the relief when the struggle was over.

I was grateful for shovels and dry clothes.

I am grateful that I was wrong...and that my neighborhood is beautiful...even after dark and sometimes... and that good things do happen around here... at 2:00 am.

God Bless Us Everyone

I remember when I was 5 and my mother and I were walking out of a fast food restaurant and she dropped her Coke on the ground.

Sadness enveloped me.

I remember how excited my mom had been to get this food.

It was rare for us to go to a restaurant.

In fact I can only recall one other time.

I knew she couldn't afford another Coke and I knew the meal wouldn't be as good without it.

I don't think I knew that I knew all this at the time.

I just knew that I felt overwhelming sadness as I stared at the syrup racing toward it's unknown destination, filling crack and crevice as it went.

It seemed to have some place to go and at the age of five I already knew that life was hard.



Someone, taking that in might say that my mother had a weight problem and didn't need fast food and a Coke.

They would have a point.

My mother eventually lost her legs due to her weight issues.

Perhaps this judgmental, hypothetical person would have said that God was knocking the Coke from her hand in an attempt to save her life...

They might say that she should spend that money on buying her son clothes that fit him or put it in a savings account to "better her station" in life, but looking back, I'm not sure my mother could have bettered herself.

I think perhaps she was born on a low rung of society and didn't have the equipment to climb out.

Perhaps it was her destiny to suffer.



This belief terrifies me.



Where is The American Dream in that nightmare?

How does a loving god fit into a world that just isn't fair?

"We hold these beliefs to be self-evident that all men are created equal...."

I want this to be true so badly.

I pray to a god I want to believe in that indeed all PEOPLE are created equal and that I may have eyes to see and ears to hear this epiphany.

But I watch people...and I listen...

And where I live there seem to be a lot of people who have fallen in and can't climb out.

I ask my son about an obese woman we see walking with sandals and no socks.

She is crying.

"What should she do?" I ask him.

He wants to answer. He thinks hard.

"I don't know." he says.

"What should she do?" I ask my daughter.

"Help her!" she screams at me.

"How?"

"She needs socks." she says.

Looking around for a shop, I do not see one.

Quickly I take my own dirty socks from my feet and put my shoes back on.

"Hey" I say lightheartedly as I get out of the warmth of my car "put these on will yah? You're making me cold just lookin at yah."

She seems distant, but she takes the socks and begins putting them on her swollen red feet.

As she goes to put her sandals back on I realize I haven't thought this through.

Her shoes are flip-flops and you can't put them on over socks.

I actually feel upset that I have to give her one of my favorite pairs of shoes.

And I am even more annoyed at myself for feeling this way.

She never says a word and she doesn't stop crying.

She never even looks at me.

As I drive away, I lecture my kids about how you have to be careful when dealing with the mentally ill, I chastise myself for not feeding her.

I didn't even think about it.

With my feet wet and cold I asked my children "What can that woman do better?"

My son said "Perhaps she is already trying her hardest."

As we drive past an old man we constantly see having heated conversations with himself, my son says "We have been learning about schizophrenia in school. It's like your mind is broken and won't function properly."

There is silence the rest of the way home, but the kids are not looking at their iPhones.

They are looking at the people.

They are seeing the struggle.

As we carry our groceries into our warm house my son says "It's not their fault, but it's not our fault either."

"I know" I say. It is all I can get out, because my voice is cracking.

"What can we do?" my daughter asks.

"I don't know." I say "But we'll figure something out."

My Life in Thrill Kill Kult or Why Rednecks Kill

The newlywed thrill-kill couple is completely fascinating to me.

So many questions...

First off they said that they had tried to kill others, but kept failing.

Why didn't any of those people go to police?

And how can you fail?

Killing people has got to be pretty easy to do, right?

They said "We just wanted to kill someone together."

Awwww. So sweet.

Isn't marriage about slowly and gradually killing each other?

Isn't that enough?

How does neither "person" say "Wow. That's fucked up. We would go to jail forEVER if we get caught."?

And they killed him IN THEIR CAR?!

OMG. I've seen The Sopranos and Breaking Bad.

Cleaning up dead bodies and blood is next to impossible.

Surely they had to know this would just completely fuck their vehicle.

They drove immediately to Walmart to buy cleaning supplies.

TO FUCKING WALMART!!!

REDNECK CAPITAL OF THE WORLD!!!!

So that dead dude was out there bleeding all over their car while they are shopping at WALMART!?

Do we need a new website...DeadPeopleOfWalmart.com?

And then, after driving around for a while looking for a place to hide the body, they fucking just dumped the body behind a garage in plain site?!

AND WENT TO A STRIP CLUB!!!!

BECAUSE IT WAS HER BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!

I seriously need something more than CAPS and !!!!! to describe my shock....

Not so much at the evil...evil I am used to...

But just the amazing levels of stupidity.

I went to school for psychology because human beings fascinate me.

I have read more than 100 books on serial killers along with 1000's of interviews.

Recently someone asked me what I learned from all of that.

I said "I learned that Serial Killers for the most part are just ignorant rednecks who have some stupid thought and instead of going 'Woah, that's fucked up' like you and I do, they say 'Boy that looks like fun.' and then go out and try to do it."

People always bring up the exceptions..Bundy...Dahmer...Manson (NOT a serial killer by the way).

But generally speaking serial killers, or as is the case here, FAILED serial killers are mostly ignorant rednecks and this couple must be the most ignorant of them all.

I find it refreshing that no one in the media is implying the the victim deserved what happened to him, because he was cheating on his wife with a woman he was paying to have sex with him.

Because no one deserves that.

Well....almost no one.

Overcoming The Game

There is an ever expanding set of rules that have proliferated modern culture.

These rules assure the practitioner that if they practice these rules they will have the people they are attracted to following them around like puppy dogs.

In my experience these principles absolutely work and should be ignored at all costs.

As I am a heterosexual male, this article will be written from my personal experience.

It is important to note that women have completely different rules.

These rules are similar and mainly consist of what Neil Strauss calls "cat string technique", in other words, always be in charge and make sure they want you more than you want them.

In practice this was very simple and did have some value as it is healthy to prove to one's self that they can control their impulses.

For example, when approaching a female in a group I would not speak to her.

I speak to everyone in the group except her.

I develop rapport and make the others like me.

This is showing status and increasing the chances that the girl you like will engage you.

When she does engage you, you would playfully refute her with something like "Wow. Are you always this needy?" then go back to addressing the group.

Most beautiful women are used to men falling all over themselves to talk to them, so when you show you have no interest in her, this should pique her interest, throw her off HER game and start her pursuit.

Have you ever heard a woman say "He isn't someone I would normally be attracted to. I don't understand it."?

She is more than likely falling for these basic manipulations.

Once we engage in conversation I will use some basic NLP (neuro-linguistic programming) techniques to break through the kino barrier.

What is the kino barrier?

It is the invisible barrier that lies between a man and a woman he has just met that is commonly said to be the longest distance in the universe.

Women touch each other constantly and our culture deems it okay for women to initiate physical contact with men.

Men live inside bubbles.

They do not touch each other and they certainly don't touch women, or else they may be considered creepy.

Add to this that men are almost always afraid of the women they are attracted to.

A man can conquer the world and be successful in business, yet still fear women.

A man can travel all the way across the earth with little problem, but the 6 inches it takes for a man to move in for the first kiss will terrify even the most successful men.

A PUA (pickup artist) breaks the kino barrier early and often.

A master level player breaks it at just the right times.

She smiles. I touch her elbow.

I say "Get out" and push her in the shoulder while she is laughing.

I show her a variety of different silly handshakes with funny names that cause her to laugh while we are touching.

She learns quickly to link my touch to good feelings.

Very quickly we are playful together,

Now kissing is not so far away.

And then just when things are going well I walk away and practice the pattern on a different group.

Complete control has been established.

She is used to dodging advances until exhaustion, but now she is left wanting more.

A true PUA wins at every stage of The Game.

He is always dangling the string.

Later on the woman will find you and say something like "Hey!! You left me!!"

David DeAngelo would have you say something like "OK. Well you've got two minutes. Entertain me." (BIG SMILE)

This game can carry on for as long as you want it to.

But when you stop the game, the chances are great that the girl will get bored and leave.

She is not into you.

She is into The Game.

She is trying to decode it...to break it...and she is usually unaware that her attraction is based around this challenge.

In my personal practice with these techniques my success rate was astounding.

I actually could not believe the effect.

It became a problem.

A PUA never hides who he is.

When I had a party there was never a choice of which girl to invite.

You invite them all.

To hide what one is, is not the mark of a man who is weak.

I would hold parties and walk into a room and see five women who I had slept with that month all in the same room, talking to each other.

It was fascinating to see their different reactions after information had been exchanged.

One would pull me into a room and say "You really get around, you naughty boy." and try to initiate sex as a claim to territory and show the other females who was dominant.

Another would leave and drift away, unable or unwilling to deal with the reality of the situation.

Yet another would come up to me and say "So I was talking to Mary and she says you met her the same way you met me."

And a conversation would ensue in which I confidently and lovingly reminded her that I was seeing lots of people, not just Mary, and would continue to do so.

I always expected them to tell me that this was NOT okay.

That almost never happened.

Instead they just tried harder to win.

Gifts, insisting to pay for outings, going to the next level in the bedroom, ultimatums, jealousy traps...

All techniques used against the PUA to reign him in.

None of them will ever work.

A true PUA must be zen and accept that people will maneuver around him with manipulation.

He must be the center of his universe.

The calm in the eye of the storm.

Nothing could seem to convince these women that I would never be exclusive with them.

My words were not taken literally.

They were translated into "If you try really hard, you will be the one I choose."

I realized very quickly that these women were not "in love" with me, but rather they were wrestling with some ideal of acceptance and I had become the movie screen to project a lifetime's worth of inadequacies onto.

I am sure it will delight many readers when I say that I felt dehumanized.

I want to take this time to point out that I was NEVER dishonest with the women I dated.

I always told them from contact that I was not interested in a relationship.

I reiterated this regularly and and lovingly when needed.

They were always free to walk away at any given time and I reminded them of this often.

Very few did.

I was raised exclusively by my grandmother and have always had a deep and abiding respect for women.

I truly do believe they are the superior sex.

As a result I had always played "the nice guy" and was the big brother shoulder you would cry on for most of my twenties.

I detested players and still do mostly, but as a result of my experiment I did learn that many PUAs are ethical men who love and respect women, but most are driven by some sort of inadequacy and a desire to find themselves.

Here is the truth that women do not want to hear...

You created this.

The Game was created because men are afraid and clueless.

They are this way because for hundreds of years most women made the choice to choose dominant, powerful men over men with character.

"Good guys" were tired of being left at home as the women they treated so well went out with the assholes who treated them like shit.

The "nice guys" became tired of wiping away the tears of girls who clearly were attracted to jerks.

So they became jerks.

If a woman reading this can honestly say that she doesn't pick assholes on a regular basis then you are not part of the problem.

But The Game exists solely because men are scared, confused and lonely.

It is a sad situation all around.

But isn't this article about "Overcoming The Game"?

Well yeah...

So in 6 months I slept with more women than I had the rest of my life combined.

I could pick up my phone at any time of the day and see texts from 10 or more girls all wanting to know if they could take me out.

I did not have to fake being cool and waiting 4 minutes to respond.

I simply was overwhelmed and could not keep up.

Men continued to call and email to ask me if I could help them meet women or win back ex-girlfriend's.

One woman asked me if I would be willing to teach other men techniques and be paid for it.

She wanted to be my manager.

I could approach strange women in pretty much any situation and walk away with contact info that would often lead to sex.

Out of hundreds of approaches over 200 women were kind enough to give me contact info.

From those 200, 78 turned into dates (yes I kept stats).

Of those 78 dates I kissed 49 women.

Of those 49 I slept with 34.

Of those 34 I was bored with every one of them.

What did this all mean?

What did I learn from all of this?

One day my friend texted me and said "I just want someone to come over here and cook dinner for my son and I."

"You have no idea how good that sounds to me." I said.

And then I realized that I would have traded sex with 34 women for cooking a meal for one woman who I loved.

It was then that I accepted that I do not like to walk away when I am enjoying talking to a woman.

I want to stay and talk and if that makes me needy and I get "friendzoned" then so be it.

I don't want to be anything but the silly fuck that I am.

I don't want to be "always in control".

I am goofy and romantic.

I tear up at old movies and I never really bought the notion that I should somehow feel grateful just because some girl "let's me" fuck her.

I honestly would rather just play my guitar than to have sex with some girl who I'm not in love with.

And if that makes me weird than I am okay with that.

I want a girl who likes me for me and likes all the little, silly, quirky things about me.

And I don't want to have to think about waiting 4 minutes to text someone back so they know I'm not needy.

I want someone who knows I am excited about them and has self-esteem enough to handle that.

And The Game actually pulls us further away from all that.

But I am glad I played.

I learned a lot about myself and learned that it is better to be alone than to invest your energy in wasted places.

So I am retired.

And I am single.

And I am much happier focusing on music and writing than I was manipulating women into liking me.

And I like me.

No manipulation required.