Welcome to the Kill Zone: If I were one of those cliche martial arts trainers

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That's it, let it all out. Let the waterworks flow, get it out of your system. Are you finished? Now we can begin. If I divide by zero does the universe implode? If I drain these walls of years of insane banter what then will make me worse? Is there a whole totality to all of this? Humanity, in its quest to reach its peak, has created several ways to destroy itself and oftentimes congratulates itself for it. First we destroy our houses, then our schools, our jobs and when we have destroyed everything in our path, we destroy our spirits. We destroy each other in so many ways, some like a saccharine tasting wine while some, a brutal yet intense connection. And of course being the theatrical beings that we are, let everything build up while our eyes are closed. We let ourselves get comfortable in our own skin first. And once everything has settled and the guarding eye becomes complacent, we destroy ourselves with one fell swoop. We cut off each others wings and laugh at each others bloody backs, all of us smiling as we do. We spray each others eyes with acid and push ourselves into brick walls. We smash our own faces, whether we do it ourselves or with a little help from others. We destroy that we detest, and become monsters ourselves in the process. Look. An airplane you're flying on's right engine has burst into flames. a quick gust of wind slaps your face, and all you see are bits and pieces of what used to be the airplane's interior flying in front of you. People are being sucked into what seems like a hole in the wall. You see the expressions on their faces and hear their screams as they soar through the air. You notice a relative hanging onto your seat, with his or her weight slowly pulling your seat into the rip in the airplane. All this in under five seconds. What do you do?

Monday, January 12, 2009

If I were one of those cliche martial arts trainers

1. I'd make my students dodge repeated jabs from a branding iron. Of course it would probably scar them for life, but at least their grotesque appearances (for those who would suck at it) just screams, "don't fuck with me." And for an added incentive, the branding iron's design would be that of a penis because nobody wants to have a penis burned into his face.

2. I would also throw different garage tools at them because not every punch is of the same speed or strength.

3. I would dress them up like pixies and send them to an Iraqi war prison so that they can face fear head on and conquer it. Or maybe I could just give them to the soldiers, I hear blond wigs are "in" this time of year.

4. I'd make them face a gorilla on steroids inside an electrified steel cage with barbed wire and spikes. I'd send them as a group and pump them full of steroids too, just to make sure they don't wuss out and get themselves killed. I'd tell them I had the gorilla rape their mothers (and then later their dads), just to get their roid rage going.

5. I'd hold tea parties, just to make sure they don't go totally nuts.

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