I'm back from Miami, and I bring revelations. Come get philosophical with me.
One of the days I was at the beach, a storm or something the night before had caused the waves to go crazy. Huge, constant waves attacked far beyond their usual haunts and quickly retreated several yards back, revealing the large slope of sand beneath. Half the beach was closed off due to these dangerous tides.
When I first got there, no one dared enter the madness further than what would wet their ankles. But gradually, the more adventurous of us dared out into the angry sea, our bodies battered by its salty shoulders.
Later, thinking back on it, I got to thinking about survival and the testing of "limits." It was here that I had a revelation, dear reader - limits are only a perception, and a luxury you cannot afford yourself if you wish to survive. But here was the real revelation - the mental and physical act of pushing through one's "limits" in a survival situation is identical to that of pushing through one's "limits" in a session of really great intercoursing.
Let me explain.
We've all been in this situation, whether we'd like to admit it or not - you're up in there, you're working your wonder show, and you feel as though the curtain is about to close after just a few minutes (and by "curtain," I mean "penis," and by "close," I mean "explode"). But you, remembering who the hell you are, gather your will, reject defeat, push forward, balance on the edge of oblivion, and go on to intercourse for another hour or so after a terrible moment's effort and uncertainty.
Being caught in a seemingly unsurvivable situation requires just such an effort. You may think that there's no way you can lift that thing to get out, that you can't hold your breath any longer, that the pain is too great to keep moving, that there are too many of them and only one of you - and as soon as such a thought enters your mind, you must banish it to the furthest regions of nothingness, remember the strength of who you are and what your name is (if you are the embodiment of the ability to accomplish impossible tasks and call upon seemingly limitless reserves - otherwise, just think positive thoughts, I guess), gather your will, reject defeat, push forward, balance on the edge of oblivion, and come out alive.
Stay Super.
Showing posts with label jt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jt. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
The World Needs a Hero
In this thing called life, it's good to have heroes. Not just the Super kind, such as myself, but personal heroes - those we can look up to, emulate, and think of in our times of weakness as a source of strength. I have tried out various personal heroes throughout my life - He-Man, Splinter, Chuck Norris, Clint Eastwood, M.K. Gandhi, Bruce Lee, Eastwood a few more times - but none quite met the measure of what I needed. When I examined my life and everyone I had heard of throughout it, there was only one person - fictional or non - worthy of my emulation.
Me.
I am my own personal hero, and a damn fine one at that. At my weak moments (few though they are, especially these days), I look up to myself, think of the accomplishments and trials that JT Awesomefellow has faced in the past, and I think, "Man - that's somebody I want to be - a man of seemingly unlimited strength, endurance, fortitude, character, and charm."
Being your own personal hero keeps you on track, because of all people betwixt heaven and earth, you certainly don't want to let yourself down. And, if you are sufficiently amazing, then you will always set a high bar for yourself to live up to.
In the meantime, feel free to put me on your personal hero pedestal. I won't let you down.
It has come to my attention that some of my future students need more time for the application process. As such, I am extending the deadline by one week, you lucky Do-Gooders.
Stay Super.
Me.
I am my own personal hero, and a damn fine one at that. At my weak moments (few though they are, especially these days), I look up to myself, think of the accomplishments and trials that JT Awesomefellow has faced in the past, and I think, "Man - that's somebody I want to be - a man of seemingly unlimited strength, endurance, fortitude, character, and charm."
Being your own personal hero keeps you on track, because of all people betwixt heaven and earth, you certainly don't want to let yourself down. And, if you are sufficiently amazing, then you will always set a high bar for yourself to live up to.
In the meantime, feel free to put me on your personal hero pedestal. I won't let you down.
It has come to my attention that some of my future students need more time for the application process. As such, I am extending the deadline by one week, you lucky Do-Gooders.
Stay Super.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Pipe Dreams
Alright, let me tell you a little something about sewers.
Now, in the movies and on TV, sewers are always these places that a) have walkways on the sides so you don't have to walk in someone's toilet water and b) have manhole covers that are wafer-thin and a simple matter to move.
This is wrong.
If you plan on sneaking through a (sanitary) sewer, do not expect anything to walk on. Chances are you will find yourself in the muck. Piece of advice: wear clothes and shoes you won't mind parting with, because once you get back to your apartment and find that there is a small hunk of some New York City stranger's poo on your favorite jeans, you'll never be able to where them again. Or probably anything you wore that night.
And manhole covers? HEAVY. They're giant discs of cast iron, and can weigh up to 350 pounds, if memory serves (though some can be light enough). The first time you have that as your only remotely realistic way out of place you don't wanna be, you're not going to be happy.
A few other things:
Stay Super.
Now, in the movies and on TV, sewers are always these places that a) have walkways on the sides so you don't have to walk in someone's toilet water and b) have manhole covers that are wafer-thin and a simple matter to move.
This is wrong.
If you plan on sneaking through a (sanitary) sewer, do not expect anything to walk on. Chances are you will find yourself in the muck. Piece of advice: wear clothes and shoes you won't mind parting with, because once you get back to your apartment and find that there is a small hunk of some New York City stranger's poo on your favorite jeans, you'll never be able to where them again. Or probably anything you wore that night.
And manhole covers? HEAVY. They're giant discs of cast iron, and can weigh up to 350 pounds, if memory serves (though some can be light enough). The first time you have that as your only remotely realistic way out of place you don't wanna be, you're not going to be happy.
A few other things:
- NEVER NEVER NEVER go into a sewer if it's raining or may rain in the near future. It's a very easy way to drown in a place you really don't want to die.
- I've managed to avoid rats in all my travels through some miracle, but you should always be wary of them. They're highly territorial and packs of them have been known to take down small cattle.
- Really, don't go into a sanitary sewer if you can avoid it. It's totally gross. You won't feel anything near clean for at least a week or two. And you have to worry about catching all kinds of nasty diseases.
- Bring a flashlight (a lighter isn't gonna cut it) with fresh batteries. And a knife.
- As a general tip, pipes get larger in the direction the "water" is flowing (to accommodate more and more water). So if your pipe is small and you're going against the flow, you should be looking for a way out.
Stay Super.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Pet Peeve #574
Okay, so let me tell you about something that makes me want to punch people in the face.
A lot of people. You're probably one of them, so read on and watch out.
Scenario:
You're not smarter than us, you're not on some insider's track, you don't possess sacred knowledge, you probably don't even have very good hygiene. You just read a book that happened to be turned into a movie. Does anyone care if you read a book that wasn't turned into a movie? Did it matter that you'd read that book before they said they were turning it into a movie? NO! It's just a book! Who cares!?
Stay Super. And not a dick.
A lot of people. You're probably one of them, so read on and watch out.
Scenario:
- Book is published.
- People read book.
- Movie version of book is made.
- People who read book see movie. People who did not read book see movie.
- People who read book feel they are qualitatively better than people who did not read book.
You're not smarter than us, you're not on some insider's track, you don't possess sacred knowledge, you probably don't even have very good hygiene. You just read a book that happened to be turned into a movie. Does anyone care if you read a book that wasn't turned into a movie? Did it matter that you'd read that book before they said they were turning it into a movie? NO! It's just a book! Who cares!?
Stay Super. And not a dick.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
How the story began...
Origin stories.
All Superheroes have them, right? So what's mine?
I was never exposed to radioactivity, found a magical item, suffered some terrible event, or became infused with alien technology (unless you count cologne made by foreigners).
Growing up, I always had an interest in training and preparing myself. Even as a wee grade-schooler, I would study martial arts flicks and practice the moves, jump over and climb on anything I could find, get into little fights, and push myself to the limit. I read about the tactics of ninja and Navy SEALS, assassins (did you know that the word "assassin" comes from the word "hashishin," because assassins were originally paid in hashish?) and thieves, Native Americans and ...there's nothing that pairs well with Native Americans, but you get the idea.
Then one day I turned around and said "What's all this for? What's the point of knowing sword play or knife throwing these days? Have I been wasting my life? What has all this been building towards?"
But I knew the answer. All boys know the answer. I was becoming the ultimate, perfect guerrilla weapon against street crime.
There was nothing dramatic to when I got started. One night, I just went out, almost daring myself. And little by little, like anything else, it just became the thing I did.
I guess that some guys play online poker at night and some beat up criminals and throw them in a dumpster.
Stay Super.
All Superheroes have them, right? So what's mine?
I was never exposed to radioactivity, found a magical item, suffered some terrible event, or became infused with alien technology (unless you count cologne made by foreigners).
Growing up, I always had an interest in training and preparing myself. Even as a wee grade-schooler, I would study martial arts flicks and practice the moves, jump over and climb on anything I could find, get into little fights, and push myself to the limit. I read about the tactics of ninja and Navy SEALS, assassins (did you know that the word "assassin" comes from the word "hashishin," because assassins were originally paid in hashish?) and thieves, Native Americans and ...there's nothing that pairs well with Native Americans, but you get the idea.
Then one day I turned around and said "What's all this for? What's the point of knowing sword play or knife throwing these days? Have I been wasting my life? What has all this been building towards?"
But I knew the answer. All boys know the answer. I was becoming the ultimate, perfect guerrilla weapon against street crime.
There was nothing dramatic to when I got started. One night, I just went out, almost daring myself. And little by little, like anything else, it just became the thing I did.
I guess that some guys play online poker at night and some beat up criminals and throw them in a dumpster.
Stay Super.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Sew you want to be a Superhero?
Note: The following may be a little graphic and gross for some, as it deals with the trials and tribulations of giving one's self stitches/sutures. It should also be noted that this is NOT medical advice. Long story short, if you vomit or disfigure yourself thanks to this blog's content, always remember that I warned you.
Being an underground do-gooder has its problems. Besides, of course, the difficulty of finding a job like mine where you only have to work a few days a month to support yourself, you also have trouble getting decent medical care. Say, for example, you get a little cut up by some jerk in the process of dealing with him (or her). If you go to the hospital, somebody might put 2 and 2 together (and get you!). Maybe not the first time, but eventually your wounds will be put together with the masked person that some crackhead said he "defended himself" against.
The first few times I ever gave myself stitches (aka, sutures), I did it with waxed floss (Mmmm, minty!). I don't know why I did this - I think I heard it was a good idea somewhere?
At first, all I could find was this huge 5-inch needle. Why did I have a 5-inch needle? Why do they even make 5-inch needles? I really don't know. Maybe some apartments come with them. So anyway, I thread my needle, push it through. Well, try to push it through. Despite its pointiness, there is no progress. The needle bends as it drives itself into the thumb I'm using to push it (this is the night I realized that thimbles actually do serve some practical purpose). I fashioned a (very poor) makeshift thimble out of a soda cap I found. With the huge needle as dull as it was, the skin wasn't so much being pierced as mashed. With my ruined flesh becoming pulverized almost unto the point of being gelatinous, I decided that this was not the tool for the job.
I doubled my efforts to find a decent needle and found a normal-sized one with just the slightest bend to it. After a few passes through the wound, it broke (the needle, not the wound). So now I have a tiny piece of broken metal stuck in my arm. Which is why the universe supplies us with needle-nose pliers. Large amounts of hydrogen peroxide are also available for an additional fee.
So far, not a great night.
So I redoubled my efforts to find another normal needle and found one in a button-fixing kit, if I remember correctly. I was on my third or fourth makeshift thimble by now, having discovered that broad flat surfaces were useless, large erasers were roughly useless, etc. This time, it was a thin piece of semi-hard packaging plastic. After a little effort, the needle decided not to have its sharp end go into where it was needed, but rather to have its dull end go straight through the plastic thimble and draw blood from my thumb. Come on - the tip of the needle wouldn't break the skin, but the dull end would?
The universe had clearly pooped on me.
Eventually, I got the damn thing done and tied it all up. Of course, despite my liberal use of hydrogen peroxide during the operation and in the following days, an amazing infection broke out - very icky. Culprit? Pretty sure it was the wax in the floss.
These days I've got my system down pretty well. How has my method evolved over the years to where it is today?
Wax floss --> Fishing line (kept with a set of small, sharp needles)
Makeshift thimble --> Holding the needle with needle-nose pliers
Hydrogen peroxide/Rubbing alcohol --> Good scrub in and around the wound with with soap and water, rinsed, and carefully dried (unless the wound is bleeding a lot, then things are a bit more dicey, but you still have to clean it)
Square knot --> Surgeon's knot
I should have the course listing ready to post soon.
Stay Super.
Being an underground do-gooder has its problems. Besides, of course, the difficulty of finding a job like mine where you only have to work a few days a month to support yourself, you also have trouble getting decent medical care. Say, for example, you get a little cut up by some jerk in the process of dealing with him (or her). If you go to the hospital, somebody might put 2 and 2 together (and get you!). Maybe not the first time, but eventually your wounds will be put together with the masked person that some crackhead said he "defended himself" against.
The first few times I ever gave myself stitches (aka, sutures), I did it with waxed floss (Mmmm, minty!). I don't know why I did this - I think I heard it was a good idea somewhere?
At first, all I could find was this huge 5-inch needle. Why did I have a 5-inch needle? Why do they even make 5-inch needles? I really don't know. Maybe some apartments come with them. So anyway, I thread my needle, push it through. Well, try to push it through. Despite its pointiness, there is no progress. The needle bends as it drives itself into the thumb I'm using to push it (this is the night I realized that thimbles actually do serve some practical purpose). I fashioned a (very poor) makeshift thimble out of a soda cap I found. With the huge needle as dull as it was, the skin wasn't so much being pierced as mashed. With my ruined flesh becoming pulverized almost unto the point of being gelatinous, I decided that this was not the tool for the job.
I doubled my efforts to find a decent needle and found a normal-sized one with just the slightest bend to it. After a few passes through the wound, it broke (the needle, not the wound). So now I have a tiny piece of broken metal stuck in my arm. Which is why the universe supplies us with needle-nose pliers. Large amounts of hydrogen peroxide are also available for an additional fee.
So far, not a great night.
So I redoubled my efforts to find another normal needle and found one in a button-fixing kit, if I remember correctly. I was on my third or fourth makeshift thimble by now, having discovered that broad flat surfaces were useless, large erasers were roughly useless, etc. This time, it was a thin piece of semi-hard packaging plastic. After a little effort, the needle decided not to have its sharp end go into where it was needed, but rather to have its dull end go straight through the plastic thimble and draw blood from my thumb. Come on - the tip of the needle wouldn't break the skin, but the dull end would?
The universe had clearly pooped on me.
Eventually, I got the damn thing done and tied it all up. Of course, despite my liberal use of hydrogen peroxide during the operation and in the following days, an amazing infection broke out - very icky. Culprit? Pretty sure it was the wax in the floss.
These days I've got my system down pretty well. How has my method evolved over the years to where it is today?
Wax floss --> Fishing line (kept with a set of small, sharp needles)
Makeshift thimble --> Holding the needle with needle-nose pliers
Hydrogen peroxide/Rubbing alcohol --> Good scrub in and around the wound with with soap and water, rinsed, and carefully dried (unless the wound is bleeding a lot, then things are a bit more dicey, but you still have to clean it)
Square knot --> Surgeon's knot
I should have the course listing ready to post soon.
Stay Super.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Swords vs. Guns - which is cooler/better?
I have this swords vs. guns argument all the time with people, and I'm sure you do too.
For most people of character and intelligence, the answer is obvious:
SWORDS.
Swords are totally sweet. Let me break it down for you:
Then there's guns.
Think about it - how many totally sweet gunfights have you seen in movies? Outside of Equilibrium, not many. How many totally sweet swordfights have you seen? A crapload.
What's the first weapon every boy forges from his surroundings? That's right - pick up a stick, and it's a sword. See? It's instinct. It's in our blood.
Swords are awesome.
I'm going to try and post some course listings and a bookstore-front thing in the next few days. Stay tuned - the you you always wished you were awaits!
For most people of character and intelligence, the answer is obvious:
SWORDS.
Swords are totally sweet. Let me break it down for you:
- Swords don't need to be reloaded. Swords don't run out of ammo.
- Swords look awesome, and you look awesome using them.
- Swords don't need a silencer - they are the silencer.
- A guy that chooses to use a sword in an age of guns is clearly someone you don't want to fight.
- Swords can remove heads (and other limbs) with style.
- Swords have a history, harking back thousands of years.
- Swords are precision instruments - innocent bystanders are rarely killed when a swordfight breaks out.
- Swords, unlike most guns, are excellent medium-close-range weapons.
Then there's guns.
- They're lame. And also loud.
Think about it - how many totally sweet gunfights have you seen in movies? Outside of Equilibrium, not many. How many totally sweet swordfights have you seen? A crapload.
What's the first weapon every boy forges from his surroundings? That's right - pick up a stick, and it's a sword. See? It's instinct. It's in our blood.
Swords are awesome.
I'm going to try and post some course listings and a bookstore-front thing in the next few days. Stay tuned - the you you always wished you were awaits!
Saturday, June 20, 2009
In the beginning...
I'm doing this blog to document the founding of my new school,
JT Awesomefellow's School of Superhero Arts.
I'll talk about me (JT), what's happening with getting the school started, and more. Stay tuned, and you might get to witness some of my process in action!
The school will work to pass the crime fighting torch to the next generation. It will take one year of night and weekend classes to become a certified Superhero.
There's no radiation or mutations involved (I get a lot of stupid questions about that) just me teaching the incredible set of skills I've gathered over my life, like fighting, climbing, interrogation, and more! You'll learn to save lives and then disappear into the night.
Students should be in good shape and at least 18 years old (it won't hurt if your hot too ;)
JT Awesomefellow's School of Superhero Arts.
I'll talk about me (JT), what's happening with getting the school started, and more. Stay tuned, and you might get to witness some of my process in action!
The school will work to pass the crime fighting torch to the next generation. It will take one year of night and weekend classes to become a certified Superhero.
There's no radiation or mutations involved (I get a lot of stupid questions about that) just me teaching the incredible set of skills I've gathered over my life, like fighting, climbing, interrogation, and more! You'll learn to save lives and then disappear into the night.
Students should be in good shape and at least 18 years old (it won't hurt if your hot too ;)
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