When “Everyone is a winner” you just create losers. Yeah, I said it. Thing is all the children unprogrammed know the truth of this because its Self evident that not everyone can stand on the podium in the same instance. If you and friends set off on a race and fatty comes in last, coughing and wheezing, we applaud his effort but wouldn’t it be a tad disingenuous to make him the captain of the Track & Field association? And yet, we do. We do. The consequences of this corrosive type of thinking are already becoming obvious because everyone is super entitled and thinks they’re something special when, in reality, they’re spectacularly average at best. Let me give you an example:
To me music from the Seventies stands head, shoulders and especially chest above the rest. The pinnacle of song writing, production, instrumentation and message. You can spin them tunes from now till the end and they’ll still hit, exactly as intended. Now, don’t think I’m some kind of Luddite or “Back in my days…” broken record because I listen to plenty from everywhen and appreciate all of it. What I’m saying is this:
In the Seventies the competition was ferocious to get on and there was far less in the way of distraction so you may have a horn player practicing his skills for hours and hours upon end before his audition with Mr James Brown himself and this is one man, one piece, one element of the overall mix where everything was held to such a high standard. Compare that to the life of a modern artist where its more about an image that sells and constant social media antics to keep the crowd entertained and synced in with their brand and it becomes Self evident what I’m saying.
In the Seventies you knew where you stood in terms of your skills because if you went to a talent contest and found tomatoes aimed at your head then its obvious something was amiss. On the flip you may belt out something and have a few producers in the audience make their way back stage for a meeting as they sense you’re the next big thing in the making. In that way the net leveled the field and everyone thinks they can do anything, whether or not they have the talent or disposition. Bruce Lee once said he fears not the man who has practiced a thousand kicks once but he who has done the flip. Why? Because he knows it outside and in. Not only that but he is then capable of breaking the rules as he mastered them so well in order to generate something that is totally different and breathtaking to take in. Mike Tyson was a prime example of this.
A man who hit like a tank but was as quick as a bullet with his hallmark elusive aggression that allowed him to punch with bad intentions and never receive a dig that was sent because he always made them miss and then punished his Opponent. Not to diss anyone else in the Game who is doing their own thing but there is a reason why I picked Mike as an example because what he did required an immense amount of discipline and, to keep it a hundred, he only maintained it for the briefest glimmer of his ascent because after a while the rep was set and the techniques were dialed in instead of being custom specced to each occasion. Taking it back to the top, if everyone hadn’t kept branding him as the Champ even when standards slipped we may have seen a totally different reign from him that went on far longer and unchallenged but the loss of Cus from the helm had a vital effect. Know why? He told him how it is. “Its good but its not perfect”. Six words can make all the difference from one who sees not just what you are but of what you’re capable and can’t currently even imagine yet.
That is why I say this “Everyone is a winner” mindset as a group of kids point as their generic trophies is just another clever scheme to loot individuals from within thanks to this social sickness so many accept without question due to how well orchestrated it is.
Its not about being harsh – even though thats what the world is – its about honesty and that is something thats totally missing from this realm at the moment as people are enamored with illusions and projections. Take those fitness influencers and put them up against an average third world farm hand who looks like nothing special and you’ll see the difference between form and function. Thats the message I stress because even though fatty from the first example was coughing and wheezing after his brief exertion lets imagine things played different as he was the last one to come in and the most heavily sweating.
“Fatty, why don’t you move more and eat less? Radical proposal, I know, but you might want to consider it“.
Fatty could go and tell his parents that the teacher said a mean thing and the other boys were all laughing as they flicked wet towels off his bosoms whilst they were changing as he chokes back the tears and helps himself to more desert as well.
“I’ve got a good mind to go and give them merry hell” his mother says, indignant that the school could treat her child like this. The father looks and says “They’ve got a point though, haven’t they? No matter what is said fat simply isn’t attractive. After all, I told you before we got married that I expected you to stay trim or I’d divorce and find someone else because I’m a visual animal. Call it superficial if you wish but I know which side my bread is buttered. Same way you picked me over the rest because I had the best prospects even if I wasn’t the most attractive”.
Young Fatty learned some important lessons that day over that conversation. His eyes were open and he took it all in. He looked around and school and noticed the popular kids were thin because most of them were athletic. The cheerleaders swooned at the captain of the football team and even the track & field kids had their admiration as well. Thing is Fatty likes cakes and pixels. He prefers to game and eat junk food which presents him with a bit of a problem. They have a treadmill in their basement and his mom always uses it so he decides to give it a spin. At first he hates it but he can’t shake what his father said:
“Fat simply isn’t attractive”. Not the most politically correct message but one that is seared into his head as he lusts in the comments of some Insta thot which will never read his messages along with the rest of the horny teens piling in. He knows what he wants and its obvious what needs to be done to get it. Something has to give. He starts jogging. “The treadmill never prepared me for this!” he says as he starts pounding the pavement but that is irrelevant. He needs to shed these pounds before he gets to college because he wants to reinvent himself and thus Fatty sets off to become Fit instead because when he walks in he wants all eyes on him.
Is such a thing even possible when everyone wins and is granted medals? No. Know why? Because those who are winning are often their own worst critics and constantly pushing themselves so the outer validation is but a side effect of the work they’ve put in. On the flip the ones who are lacking like the imperative of losing themselves in a crowd with others that also aren’t worth a pish.
Harsh realities and aggressive content, for certain, but the world is vicious and sweet lies won’t do a thing but generate a race of emotional diabetics.
Till we meet again
