Tic Toc...

The guy who wrote the posts on this blog for the past several months would never forgive me if I let up in this moment.

He would remind me what he went through to get me to this point.

I am not the guy who wrote the posts on this blog.  At least, I am no longer the guy who wrote the posts on this blog.

My mindset is different now.

What I don't fully understand is why I decided to post the naked contents of my soul on the Internet.

I completely poured my energy into my project, and my study of War and Strategy.

The Best Christmas Ever

Growing up, Christmas was always a holiday that meant receiving gifts from others:  parents, uncles, aunts, grandparents, etc.

Today, the best gift(s) come from me.  These "gifts" are really just the fruits of my labors.  I've worked this.  I deserve it.

Happy Birthday To The King

$

Ugly People Hate Success

Hard Work And Dedication

Mania

11/11/14: 11:11am

It all began this time two years ago.

Soundtrack for The Rise: Track #2

Hint:  Global financial crisis.

You Underestimated Me

I will show you exactly how much you did.

$500,000 a year ain't shit, bitch.

Ready to Fight

I am ready to fight now.

Time to open the gates of hell and let one hundred trillion demons fly.

I Will Show You How To Win

I have methods and resources that guarantee success.

Over the following weeks, months, and years, I will show you how I did it.

Money, Power, Respect.

Father,

You were here with me, in this very place.  You were there with me when I wept alone.  You were there when I asked for the tools and resources to fight back... to win forever.

At the time, it seemed such a ridiculous notion, glorious dreams of getting to the top, inspired by pain from the bottom.

And yet.

It was that pain that made me take the leap two years ago.

In all things, I seek to make you proud.  Robert Greene strategically cites your wisdom in many of his chapters.  The 48 Laws supercharged my will to power.  I know you see your son making these massive money-making moves.  My actions will establish a new realm of human potential.  Thank you for making philosophy dangerous.  Thank you for chewing through the bitter morsels of life.  Thank you for teaching me what my own biological father could not:  What to do after realizing that both love and God have died.

Will and Power Forever,

Your First Born Son

PS.  By the way, while I appreciate your ilk of music, I think you should give drill music it a shot.

\

Words from "Son of Nietzsche"

Getting to the top involves warfare. The battles can be physical, but they're usually mental and even psychological. Retracing my steps to this point, I suppose I could have gotten here without stepping on the throat of a competitor. I suppose I could opt to not employ the dark arts of deception against my foes. I suppose I could choose to be less strategic, less cunning, and less ruthless than I am now.

But why would I do that? Because the "Christian" God says so? Pfft. 

On the path to the top is complete isolation and desolation - and this can be physical or mental. At times, the battle is with your own sanity. When faced with unavoidable circumstances on the way to the top, some moments can test everything inside of you. 

You have to keep believing in yourself... no matter what happens, especially because of what happens.

In such circumstances, one reaches for the truth, for what truly feels like light at the end of the tunnel.

One-Leg Squat

Soundtrack for the Ri$E: Track 1

Power Trip.  J Cole.

Soon...

The Fire

The fire is glorious, brothers.  If you ever doubt if the hard work, sacrifice and lonely traveling is worth it, let me assure you of one thing.  I give you my word that if you use all of your power - and then find a way to develop and create in yourself even more power, just to make sure that the proper level of overkill is applied to murderin' the game - you will have everything that you want and dream of in this world.

The fire is glorious, brothers.  In the beginning, you saw me burning in the flames.  Today, you will soon witness wretched fuckin' glory.

I won't forget #driveby and #jacked.

They

They will think you're crazy. As stated before, this is good. Better to be bat-shit motherfuckin' insane than be on the same page with all of the other rats in the maze bumping their heads against the walls of The Matrix.

They will say you're too this or too that. Too cocky. Too greedy. Too intense. Too aggressive. Too loud. Too ambitious. Other stuff, too.

They will take shots at your ego. This is their specialty. Constant streams of poisonous negative energy. Like a fool, you will at first sit there and take this. However, Law 10 may rank much higher in importance than some of the other laws. After all, Robert Greene tells us that his favorite law – or the law most applicable to him now – is the 48^th Law. When discussing the assumption of formlessness, Greene delves into the classic Go versus Chess analogy. If you've been able to keep up with all of my Robert Greene references, then you understand (at least on a basic level), the dichotomy between eastern and western thought (particularly in regards strategy). You may also know that Greene says that applying the 48 Laws means adopting a mindset, rather than memorizing the laws by rote and attempting to rigorously apply them, one-by-one, in various specific scenarios (although, this would be an interesting experiment). Be a little more Asian in your thinking, Greene says. Throughout the centuries of human history, modern and ancient examples abound: General Giap, Musashi, The Great Kahn, Sun-Tzu.

They will rub your failures in your face. They cannot do what you do, so they tell you that you can't do it either. Your superiority offends them... too much cognitive dissonance for their human minds to handle.

They will talk behind your back. Haters love to hate. They can't help themselves. It is in their nature. Their lives are basically shit sandwiches covered in juicy fecal matter, so they like to make sure everything you do stinks, too. Get rid of friends like this. When you get a hug from someone covered in shit, you get a lot of shit all over you, too.

They will act like swine before pearls. Then, when you show up with a full piggy bank – or, rather, a bank full of full piggy banks - guess who will come oinking and boinking at your feet, like pigs in slop.

They will tell you to abandon your dreams. Sure. Why not. Be like them.

They will mock your sources of inspiration. Better to not tell them. They can't shit on your favorite artist, writer, song, book or poem if you don't let them know what you love.

They will make you regret that you ever shared your ideas and thoughts with them.

Something strange happens with normal humans in the presence of genius. They get used to it. It no longer fascinates them when they see the inner workings up close.

On Page 114 of Mind-Sword, Dr. HAHA Lung tells us a nice story: “Whether clapping leather or clearing your scabbard, hitting your target with bullet or blade requires either luck or focus. Since the former cannot be trained, it's better to trust your fortune and fate toward developing focus.

Thus, whether martial artist or portrait artist, focus is ever the key. This tale is told of an elder Pablo Picasso: Having finished his lunch, the always gracious and cavalier Picasso repays the attentiveness of a young waitress by quickly – masterfully – sketching her portrait on a handy napkin. He draws the portrait with but a single flourish of his hand, his pen never leaving the napkin.

“Humph! How long did it take you to draw that?” snickered an older-fur-wrapped woman sitting nearby.

“Thirty years, madam. A mere thirty years!” Picasso replied calmly – coldly.

So, too, when we watch the master martial artist strike quickly, flawlessly, whether with katana-sword or with karate sword-hand, we do not see the decades he may have had to devote to the practice and perfection of his stance, hand position, his draw-strike and follow-through, and, perhaps most importantly, his Mind-Sword focus, all necessary to achieve such a flawless strike. This is kami waza, literally “the technique of The Gods,” i.e., the perfect stroke.

That's how the normal people respond to greatness.  They see the stroke, not the lifetime spent practicing and perfecting the stroke.  

If you violate The Laws, and put too much trust in your“friends” by recklessly blabbing your ideas to them, and you say way more than necessary, you merely erase the mystery and grandeur of what you do. Take a good look at your friends and ask yourself how many of them truly understand what you're doing. Are they themselves doing what you're doing? Are you putting in the hours every day – your eyes unflinchingly focused on hitting the 10,000 hour mark, then 20,000, then 30,000... - getting better every day, learning new skills and/or bettering and utilizing current skills, consistently following through on your strategies with sound action? Are your friends? If not, then how can they relate? Don't break down the art and science of your plans to them. Just show up with the money and tell them you're a magician. Or a socerer. Or a god. Or The Messiah. Or the Anti-Christ. Or God The Father. Or Allah. Or Sun-Tzu reincarnated. Or the Ubermensch. Or all of the above. Just make sure you can back up all of that talk with a mighty, masterful, God-like strut (a.k.a. Perform actions aimed at grabbing some wretched fuckin' glory). You only get to do that after you decisively, emphatically, and irrefutably win through action.

They will say “money isn't everything.” And yet, they wake up early to go to their jobs. They commute in traffic, on buses and trains to go to their jobs. They acquiescently report to their “bosses” (an ugly notion that I could never submit myself to) and work with annoying, moronic co-workers. They do this all day, and then spend more time commuting home in traffic, on buses and trains. The spend most – nearly all – of their waking hours... slaving away for this thing that “isn't everything.”

If money doesn't buy happiness... then why winners on game shows like these people so happy?

They will encourage you to embrace a mediocre, meaningless, mundane existence.

They will try to put your hope and self-esteem in a blender.

They will not support you during your darkest hours. But maybe these words will. If you've read the words on this page, you know who I am, even though you might not even know my name. You've seen how my body looks. My physique was created through the intelligent exploitation of my great genetics. It was not easy. I worked hard to make myself big, because Aristotle wrote that a man cannot be beautiful if he is not big. My physique was created through dedication, by routinely doing intense workouts. Even during times of depression, I forced myself to – at the very least – do pushups, dips and pullups.

They will not answer your phone calls when you need them to the most.

They will not believe in you. But who gives a fuck? They don't even believe in themselves (and why would they... I mean, have you seen them?). Look at their mediocre lives. Only someone who doesn't believe in himself begrudgingly – or, god forbid... graciously and thankfully! - accepts the minuscule morsels and modicum of money that fate dismissively sprinkles into his hands.

They will tell you to abandon your insane dreams and “come back down to earth.” The higher we soar, the smaller we appear to those who cannot fly...

They will judge you, even though they do not truly know you.

They will say that they support you, and show different with their actions.

They will say that they see your greatness, but will not treat you like The King you are.

They will say that you think you're better than everyone. And for once, they will be right.

They won't know how to handle it when you stop swallowing fire and start spittin' it. They won't know how to handle it when you start speaking your mind. They won't know what the fuck to do when you start winnin' on their motherfuckin' asses. They won't know what hit em' when you refuse to bite your tongue for one more ever livin' second.   

More interest...

United States	168
China	44
Hungary	39
Estonia	31
Italy	17
France	6
Canada	2
Sweden	2
Israel	1
Philippines	1

My perspective is changing.  

What the fuck was Nietzsche talkin' about?

"Because the universe has no meaning, order, or truth in and of itself, it is humans who are the source of all those things.  But science and rationality assume truth exists "out there" and seeks to discover it rather than create it... it is through art that humanity imposes itself on the world.  It is through art that humanity grants meaning to the world.  Thus, in the truth-less universe that perspectivism forces upon us, art is the proverbial single shining light in the darkness.  If there is no objective morality or truth, as Nietzsche believes, then the only reliable standard that can be used for judgement is aesthetics.  If art is the sole celebrator of life, the only source of meaning, then nothing but art can be used to decide which values to adopt.  And thus, it is through aesthetics that Nietzsche receives his salvation from nihilism.  Instead of his perspectivism forcing him to retreat into despair and hopelessness, Nietzsche uses it to cut away what he feels to be all the false and degenerative standards like morality and truth - and the way he does this is by relying on art.  Thus, in the end, Nietzsche believes himself to be promoting the beautiful and denouncing the ugly above all."  

~ In the fifth chapter of FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE IN PLAIN AND SIMPLE ENGLISH

Play With Emotion

(3:30 - 3:50)

Question:  You play big on the field.  Where does that come from?

Answer:  That's just my anger.  That's where I channel all of my emotions.  I'm able to channel that on the football field, and not get in trouble.  I'm able to play all out, be full of emotion and passion.  

Are you watching?

Don't look now, but he's about to score.

He's a rookie, and this is his first time on the court.

Or, maybe he's not.  Maybe he was in the game, showed incredible talent during his rookie year, then he fell off.  Got injured or something.

Now, he's back.  What you don't know, is that while you were saying he's washed up, he's been training.  He's been sprinting.  He's been MMA fighting.  He's been doing pullups.  He's been doing one-armed pullups.

He's been preparing for war.

And now that the war has begun, and he's on the phone...

And now he's back on the court.

The champ has returned.  They're playing his music.

There are diamonds on his neck.  Even his chain has a chain.  A chain, a fittingly ironic symbol of wealth today.  This is the black man's wretched glory.  This is the deepest sort of victory for the nigga, risen from his ancestor's horror:  A history full of humiliation, of pain, of steel-melting anger...

He has risen from his dark heritage of chains of bondage, into the wretched glory of the motherfuckin' light.  

Are you watching?  

Because after pouring buckets of sweat into a hustle, after drenching the dirt with your own blood, after wiping away your own tears with the back of torn-up knuckles, there is only one thing left to happen after a man has put THIS level of might, and moxie, and motherfuckin' muscle into the concept of mastery.  

A Great Find

"Lastly, in any list of reasons not to get rich, we must come to philosophy and the benefits of hindsight. If I had my time again, knowing what I know today, I would dedicate myself to making just enough to live comfortably

(say £30 or £40 million), as quickly as I could - hopefully by the time I was thirty-five years old. I would then cash out immediately and retire to write poetry and plant trees.

Making money was, and still is, fun, but at one time it wreaked chaos upon my private life. It blocked me from beginning to write poetry until my early fifties. It consumed my waking hours. It led me into a lifestyle of

narcotics, high-class whores, drink and consolatory debauchery. As a philos-opher might have put it - all the usual dreary afflictions of the seeker after wealth. These afflictions, in turn, helped to undermine my health.

But like an old, punch-drunk boxer, I couldn't quit. I always craved just one more massive pay-day. One more appearance under the lights with the roar of the crowd and the stink of the sawdust and leather. One more fight.

'I can take this young punk. I know I can. Just this once, so I can go out as a winner. So I can retire as the champ. Then I'll retire. Just this last one.'  Pathetic. I should have known better. There is no such thing as a perma-nent champ. After all, I co-wrote the first bestselling biography of Muhammad Ali back in 1974. (You'll find it, republished as Muhammad Ali: The Glory Tears on Amazon.com.) And there isn't a single fan of Muhammad

Ali who does not wish he had quit the ring several years before his failing powers made the decision for him.

It's no excuse, but making money is a drug. Not the money itself. The making of the money. This sounds like so much hooplah, but it's true, all the same. Nobody believed that exercise could prove addictive until science stepped in and discovered 'endorphins' or whatever the damn things are called. And making money, I assure you, is a hell of a lot more of a rush than jogging.

-Felix Dennis (Networth: around 750 million pounds)

R.I.P. Big brother!

The Best Pickup Artist Advice In Modern History

1)  Get money.

2)  Get power.

3)  Make your own moves.

3)  Offer ice cream.

4)  Act like a lizard.

5)  Tell her that she is lucky you are a nice guy.

6)  Tell her that she is pretty and compliment her outfit.

7)  Call her a bitch and a lesbian.

Note:  Steps one, two and three are not optional.  The rest are.

I love her...

But only when she wet... LMFAO.  This nigga snapped with this one.

I Am

I am going to break records.

I am a superstar.

I am selling corporate crack.

I am exploiting the fact that the 2008 global economic crisis was parallel to the streets of black America in 1985.

I am receiving love and respect from people who see my greatness.

I am inspired by other great people, people who have done greater things than myself.

I am humble when it makes sense to be.

I am full of pride:  Always.

I am past the stage in my life where I need approval from anyone or anything.

I am thankful for the fact that I met the best business partner an entrepreneur could ask or hope for.

I am a real life Gordon Gekko.

I am the one your baby mama wants to fuck.

I am the the one your wife wants to dig her back out.

I am the one your girl wants to dig her fingernails into.

I am lucky that I don't have any babies from American women.  No child support from me, bitches!

I am lucky that I never got married in America.  No alimony from me, bitches!

I am going to rape the game.

I am going to treat fortune roughly, because she is a manipulative, passive aggressive, cock-teasing slut-whore who's been givin' a whole bunch of other niggas love.  I conclude therefore that, fortune being changeful and mankind steadfast in their ways, so long as the two are in agreement men are successful, but unsuccessful when they fall out.  For my part I consider that it is better to be adventurous than cautious, because fortune is a woman, and if you wish to keep her under it is necessary to beat and ill-use her; and it is seen that she allows herself to be mastered by the adventurous rather than by those who go to work more coldly.  She is, therefore, always, woman-like, a lover of young men, because they are less cautious, more violent, and with more audacity command her.  ~  Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince.

I am a real life Tyler Durden.

I am a lion.

I am a champion.

I am Ubermensch.

I am ready.

I'm So Sorry

I'm so sorry that the agreement I'm signing this week will take a $50M company to $1B+ in a year.

I'm so sorry that momma home-schooled me and gave me a brain with more horsepower than a machine with more horsepower than you can imagine.

I'm so sorry that I will actually be able to buy a Bugatti, buy a Lambo, buy a Ferrari, buy every car your fuck nigga ass wants, but can't get.

I'm so sorry that I have 666 reasons to give these hoes no love.

I'm so sorry that I will have to descend upon my enemies with the wrath of 1,000 suns.

I'm so sorry that I ran through Robert Greene's 33 Strategies of War for the past 10,000 hours (heh-fuckin-heh-heh) and am using this shit on a virgin market.

I'm so sorry that I hear the stories of the greatest conquerors in the history of mankind and relate.

I'm so sorry that I have superpowers, and you don't.

I'm so sorry that you were blind to my greatness before diamonds in you face make you feel like the paparazzi are takin' shots of you.

I'm so sorry that you bitch niggaz doubted me, that you stupid bitches disrespected me.

I'm so sorry that my electric swag makes your bitch wet.

I'm so sorry that Dr. HAHA Lung took me under his wing and created a motherfuckin' monster.

I'm so sorry that I had to resurrect the ghost of Mr. Musashi to carve 1,000 victories into the graves of 1,000 unsuspecting enemies victims.  Hater, rot in pieces.  Leave a hater's rotten pieces in the parking lot.  Saleen S7 so big it can't even fit in the parking spot. 

I'm so sorry that the past four years have made me so evil that "devil-worshippers" are now defined as "people who praise the second-most evil character in the universe."

I'm so sorry that the only way for me to show you how smart I am is to show you how simultaneously crazy I am.  Ain't no one out they mind as me.

I'm so sorry that you find these sentences so annoying, sexy, inspiring, angering, offensive, and status-quo challenging.

I'm so sorry that I have to transvaluate values.

I'm so sorry that I see the truth, and you don't.

I'm so sorry that you are dumb, and I am smart.

I'm so sorry that I dreamed about this life over ten years ago... and started hustlin' and grindin' for this life over ten years ago!

I'm so sorry that Illuminati wants to recruit me.

You stop feeling "peer pressure" when...

You realize that you don't have any peers.

"Shit Into Sugar" and Intense Realism

Seeing events as completely neutral stems from seeing the world through the lens of intense realism.  Looking at events in your life as "bad" or "good" is not realistic.  Transvaluate your values.

In the chapter on Intense Realism, Greene tells the reader that an objective view of reality does not depress the individual who knows how to effectively act in reality.  If you have supreme power to manipulate the world around you, *bad* things can be turned around into *good* things.

"In nooks all over the earth sit men who are waiting, scarcely knowing in what they are waiting, much less that they are waiting in vain.  Occasionally the call that awakens - that accident which gives the "permission" to act - comes too late, when the best youth and strength for action has already been used up by sitting still; and many have found to their horror when they "leaped up" that their limbs had gone to sleep and their spirit had become too heavy.  "It is too late," they said to themselves, having lost their faith in themselves and henceforth forever useless."  Friedrich Nietzsche, the guy who made philosophy dangerous.  

The Throne or Prison

I have hit low points in my life more than once.  And more than once, I have found refuge in the lyrics spit above.

I find it difficult to encapsulate the intensity of my feelings in these sentences.  How do I explain the rage of a man so hellbent on brutally raping, maiming and murdering the game that he deserves an infinite life sentence?

But that begs the question of where to send such a man - or, dare I say, creature - capable of such depravity.  Surely, someone - or something - that so consciously and willfully premeditates a gloriously strategic massacre - through focused and determined meditation - deserves the lowest rung in hell as an eternal prison.

Or, maybe he deserves the throne in heaven.

Robert Greene: "I was so focused and motivated that I turned everything around."

Your life depends on this.  Pour all of your energy into the actions that will lead you to where you want to be in life, in the world.  Hold nothing back.  When you look back on this moment in life, you will want to know that you fully exploited it, that you put absolutely every last bit of fire into your pursuit of wretched glory.

Show that you are the real deal.  This is the one moment where you shouldn't wait, you shouldn't be cautious.  You should not be conservative.  This is the moment to seize the opportunity,  Soar into the opening moments of the campaign with extraordinary boldness.

Why?

Why do I go so hard?  Because money makes life better.  

Why did I fall in love with the game?  It provides an arena for me to demonstrate my greatness, my skills, my intelligence.  

Why do winners win?  Because they do not take "no" for an answer.  

Why do you say that money - or the love of money -  is the root of evil?  Francisco D'Anconia gave the proper response.  

One-Arm Pullup Form

Maserati Weather

Me:  If you were to describe what's going on right now, what would you say?

A friend:  Something bigger than Facebook brewing in the hands of a nigger. It's never happened before.  Every other nigga that got rich was workin' for someone and had a lot of strings attached to him. Everybody else who got paper had people to answer to.  And in this case... There's no one.

Me:  Fuck yea. Hahahahahahaha! Haha! HA!

A friend:  You think it's Maseratti weather?

Me:  Hahahahaha!

A friend:  How many bitches are we gonna fuck?

Me:  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!

A friend:  Seriously. How many?

Me:  HAHAHAHAHAHA!

Project Phase Completion

In many ways, it seems that a phase of The Ubermensch Forever Project comes to a close. I can best analogize it to Tony Stark putting the finishing touches on his suit and armor before flying.

You know you are close to wretched glory when you can taste it in your spit, and feel it in your bones.  

Drug Money

Eminem wrote some of his lyrics during the shooting of the film 8-mile. In an interview, he said the experience of making the movie brought him back to those moments in his life.

I want to do something that freezes this moment in time for me. At the very least, this will allow me to objectively assess it later in the future. In a short amount of time, I will count up my first million. I wonder how I will reflect on these words at that point. If I know myself the way I think I know myself, I will flame up some kill, turn up the volume all the way so that Speaker Knockerz is literally knocking the fuck out of my speakers, and I my future self will thank the me of today...

Nigga, thank you. Thank you so much for grindin' your ass off. I know what you went through to get me in this position, to put me in this spot. We really did go to war with these motherfuckerz, didn't we? God damn, nigga. Look at us.

You're the Son of motherufuckin' Nietzsche!

After all, wasn't it Nietzsche who said:

“I am by nature warlike. To attack is among my instincts. To be able to be an enemy, to be an enemy – that presuppose a strong nature. It needs resistances, consequently it seeks resistances... The strength of one who attacks has in the opposition he needs a kind of gauge; every growth reveals itself in the seeking out of a powerful opponent – problem; for a philosopher who is warlike also challenges problems to a duel. The undertaking is to master, not any resistance that happen to present themselves, but those against which one has to bring all one's strength, suppleness and mastery of weapons – to master equal opponents.”

In the 33 Strategies of War, Robert Greene says something pretty wicked cool. He tells us that if we calibrate our strengths and weaknesses perfectly, we can take down Goliath with a slingshot.

What this means is that there is no problem too big for The Master Strategist. Or, “The Master Player,” which was the working title of Greene's latest work Mastery...

Heh-heh-heh...

I got this shit runnin' through my motherfuckin' veins, bitches.

I'm not even looking at a book right now. I'm freestyling this shit, with my eyes closed, kinda like playing Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.

Anyway. Back to thankin' myself.

Nigga. Man, I owe you one for this. You gave me the life. The cars. The homes. The flights. The diamonds, the black Gucci sneakers with the spikes...

You put at the top on your arm out the gate 'cause you know where you were goin', bro.

You propagandized and prophesied (and then profited!) this motherfuckin' shit, nigga!

Oh, man. The haters... they don't like me, man. They don't like my attitude. They don't like the way I talk to these hoes. These bitches. These bitch niggas. These ol' fuck ass, broke niggas. Oh, man. I hate you motherfuckerz so bad. I can't wait to shit on your lives, niggas. I can't wait to eat you fuckin' souls.

I'm going to embarrass you. You think you stuntin', nigga? With your 9-5, bullshit job, lil' nigga? You niggas make me laugh.

How much you bitch niggas make a year? I mean, for real, though. $50,000? $100,000? A hundred fifty bands? Man, I did numbers like that in a week.

A week, nigga. Only thing I hadn't mastered at that moment was the art of timing, and fully exploiting an opportunity...

Game's different now.

And I ain't out here movin' no rocks, bro. I'm not flippin' pounds of weed, or Heisenbergin' the fuck outta the meth game...

Although, if I AM... a LOT like Gus.

I'm about to do drug money numbers, NIGGA.

Just Fuckin' Run With It!!!

What would you do if you were not afraid?

He's Here

He's Here

I got a lot off my chest yesterday. I can take some deep breaths now. If you've been reading this, you can probably tell that my activity has ratcheted up recently.

That is because something big is about to happen.

I can feel it. The excitement is building. I will write history. This is history.

Today is important. I must finalize agreements of many sorts. Complete the structure. Plan all the way to the end... and then think backwards. This Law is also wisdom found in Game Theory.

I have many exciting strategic scenarios to analyze, dissect and play with... have to find the perfect solution.

Here we go. Time to fly. If it's going to happen, it's going to happen right now...

My deepest thank you's to Dr. HAHA Lung and Robert Greene. Your writings of war and power have helped get me to this point. The Monster learned his Out-Monstering moves and ways from you.

Through great pain and loneliness comes enlightenment.  When you are all alone, you have to learn how to make it on your own.  This is the greatest power that a man can have, and it is why Robert Greene tells us that the greatest skill one can develop is self-reliance.  

When you're going through soul-warping pain, know that your old self is dying.  Your new self is born.  

And when you recognize the face in the mirror, but not the unbeatable fire burning in your soul - causing a look of pure intensity and focus to permanently settle in your eyes - then you are no longer you.  You are no longer alone...

Because he's here.

Yep.  He's here.  

HAHA.  Watch 14:20 - 14:40.

For me, Ubermensch is a lot like Nikki Minaj's description of Roman (7:00 - 8:00).  

The Ubermensch was born out of rage, and he says things that need to be said.  He does things that need to do be done.  Unlike Nikki and Roman, though, I don't want him to leave.  I want him to stay.  

Oh, Shih!

With my fingertips, I can feel something epic brewing. I asked for this, the fight of a lifetime, a chance to prove myself... once and for all.

Can't act scared now. I have resurrected Nietzsche, conjured up Genghis Kahn, and have borderline personally consulted with Robert Greene and Dr. HAHA Lung. I kept Robert J. Ringer's words echoing in my mind, as I pieced this whole Go board together.

I'm the motherfuckin' Master, bitches. Bow down and put your knees in the fuckin' dirt. I'm done disguising this.

I'm taking off the mask...

We geniuses have a certain breed of our species. You see, we're more dangerous than you normals are.

God damn. I have so much pent up aggression, just waiting to be unleashed on all of you. Sun-Tzu would call it shih.

Perhaps that's because if Sun-Tzu ever walked into the room, with my Robert Greene-style assortment of note cards, and ascertained that I have properly applied both the artistic and scientific aspects of strategy...

Then he just might say: Oh, shih.

Robert Greene analogizes shih to a boulder perched up high, ready to be dropped.

And man oh man am I about to drop some shit on you niggaz.

Light Side Versus Dark Side

Am I super crazy, or just focused as fuck. Or both.

I write so much about the dark side that I feel that I have failed to mention the lighter side of things.

There are people in my life who make me smile. There are people in my life who make me laugh. One of them I met seven years ago. Another I met late in September of this year. In a strange way, I love them both, for some of the same reasons.

They have both taken care of me. They have both encouraged me during my darkest moments. They have reminded me of the glory of the light. One has related with my sense of betrayal. The other has helped me focus on the positive. These are the people in my life that have helped me apply the reversal of Law 10 with great success.

For them both, I will slay dragons.

When I Close My Eyes/Dr. HAHA Lung-Style Meditation/Gone Off My Energy

When I close my eyes, I see a black Lamborghini. A 2014 model. The Aventador syle.

The lamborghini is black. So are the rims. So is the interior. The windows are tinted,

The license plate reads: REVENGE

Heh-heh-heh.

The nigga in the whip looks unquestionably unbeatable. His eyes are closed, as mine are now, as I type this sentence. His head is bowed, as mine is now, as I type this sentence.

Lloyd Banks' Shock The World blasts through the speakers, just as it is for me right now.

This black fuck-you-mobile is parked at a stoplight, at night. Actually, it is late night.

The nigga in the whip has both middle-fingers raised; his arms are stretched high above his head. It looks like he is flipping off the creator of the universe. As the chorus heats up, the nigga raises he head, opens his eyes, and looks towards the heavens...

At the top of my lungs, he is singing along with the chorus: I'm makin' em sick. We all know the remedy: Money over all; wish wrong on my enemy. I'm getting' dough, so the girls go to bed with me. Shorty got the plug, now she gone off my energy. That's right. Gone off my energy. I'm gonna shock the world, bet they all gonna remember me. Gone off my energy. Gone off my energy.  

Interesting. The Project has interested viewers.

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