What’s the difference between a Ranger and a mule? A mule knows when to give up.

Some have a mistaken idea I am superman and I can do things other men cannot. Horseshit. My advantage in this world is being dumber then a mule. I have failed to achieve practically every goal I set. Sometimes because of my own inabilities. Sometimes because of events somewhat beyond my control. Mostly a combination of the two. My marriage went to shit because I elected to listen to my ex-wife’s minor complaints and the church men giving me advice. I didn’t fight in the UFC. I stopped three rounds with my chest instead, but I cannot say for certain getting shot was the only reason. Getting shot dropped me from the pinnacle of special operations down to being a grunt. Lower down the food chain then where I started. I ended up loving the job and greatly respecting the average ass in the grass, dick in the dirt grunt but that was a bad time for me. I lost my family, my job and my pro sports dream at one time. I failed to total elite in power lifting and failed at turning pro in strongman. I never learned to surf with any degree of skill. I have never broken 11 seconds in the quarter mile despite my car being able to do so. Most of the girls I have wanted to stick around walked, cheated or turned into bitches.

I made it through the Ranger Indoctrination Program and Sniper School as a first time go. I bombed my very 1st mission in Ranger School and had to repeat two phases because of injuries. I fucked up and was sent home the 1st time I tried out for a SMU. I took the ass chewing, asked what I need to do to improve, followed their advice and made it 6 months later. I barely qualified on pistols and my lack of pistol skillz is still a running joke. I was terrified of water until Combat Divers Course

I have PTSD from 12 years of marriage, not combat. As bad as I thought my marriage was or losing my health, family, career and dreams of fighting in the UFC, losing my brother has been worse. I struggle everyday with that one and always will.

Physically I am a wreck; my lung capacity is 43% of normal. Fat kids are in better shape than me and I am exhausted all the time and always will be because I struggle to breath. I have been blown up 7 times with the corresponding traumatic brain injuries. That’s a fucking bitch to deal with. I have to constantly evaluate my mental state; am I correct or being pig stubborn? Am I remembering this event correctly? Most days I cannot recall the basic background information of my life without serious mental effort. Middle school stuff can stump and frustrated. I have scars from knife wounds. I have been told I’d never lift, run etc again more times than I can count. I have dislocated my hip twice and walk with a cane. Not frequently but I keep one in my car just in case. I cannot hear for shit in social settings and should use a hearing aide but I am too vain. Hearing lose is a real hit to your life. My big toe and pinky toe got crushed and are now twisted to the left, fucking up my stride. My heart burn is severe and keeps me up most nights. I have torn my left bicep three times; my right twice; my right and left pec and tore my quads so bad the doc said I’d use a walker for the rest of my life.

I am short which is a huge disadvantage. I have always known this. My high school foot ball team won the State championship twice. I started as a freshmen, was voted MVP twice. Lead the state two years in tackles and sacks. I didn’t carry the ball much, but I made 1st downs and touchdowns. I did the short yardage game and played defensive end. I also played special teams. Normally my only break was half time. While bigger men with worse stats were talking about college ball, I knew I was too short and scouts told me so. Research says short men are disadvantaged in all aspects of life. For whatever oddness of my bio chemistry, I get sick and weak if my body fat gets much below 14% and carry it all around my gut. My IQ is 106. Pedestrian in every way. I am not mentally lazy. I devoted countless hours to studying. Most on practical matters, though I have my flights of fancy. I wasted time on philosophy before calling it all bullshit and sticking with the Stoics. My morality is a practical matter as well; what makes me, my kin and my tribe strong, free, prosperous etc is morally correct. Whatever weakness us is immoral, what weakens our enemies is a positive. I have seen too much of the world to believe in the softer, womanish version of morality. I am not immoral or amoral; my morality is based on the advancement of my clan and kin. Only fools fail to see the tribal warfare surrounding us

Right after my divorce, alimony, child support and paying her bills left me $300 a week. Not to mention all the emotional bullshit. My relationship with my parents is a constant battle, same with my daughter. After my brother died, I brought my sister in law and my nieces in my house, my sister in law repaid this by turning on me. The list can go on and on, but the point isn’t to catalog my grievances with the world. All these words are to set up this one statement.

If I am in any way “special” or “superior “or better than some other man, it is because I don’t give up. I get off the ground and back to fighting in a fucking hurry. I trained myself to do this. I did nothing but get my ass kicked when 1st learning to box. My old man told me the only thing I can control is me, how hard I fight, how fast I get off the floor. I do that with everything. I would rather be dead then broken and bowed down to another. That is a decision any man can make, a mindset any man can develop, if he has the determination to do so. The notion that somehow most men cannot achieve this relentless level of masculinity is bullshit. It also does a disservice to the men who have achieved XYZ. It’s very much a liberal mindset, linking success to some kind genetic lottery vs hard work and brass balls( and genes. We all do have our natural limits). All liberal mindsets are self-limiting and defeatist in nature, because liberalism is founded on tearing men down vs building them up. Building a better beta has a foot in each camp and will fail like all half measures will. Who dares wins. Not who sort of dares sort of wins

Any man can be determined and determination wins the long game of life. Especially when coupled with a disregard for the laws of men. When I was broke and had to choose between chow or running the a/c I got pissed and sold moonshine and steroids to earn cash. The Almighty God forbids neither. Most laws are written to keep beaten men down, to eliminate competition for the elites and keep them on top. I am a sinner and a crappy Christian but I am a man of God. The only laws I give a damn about are His. Laws of men are generally unworthy of respect and for damn certain when they do not match God’s laws or our ancient traditional view of justice, honor and correct masculine action. And I men ancient. Not some 1950’s womanish version of the concept. Following the law simply because it’s the law is slavish.

I am mentally and physically tougher then the most of men but I wasn’t born this way. I trained myself to be these things. I started off as 9 pounds of squalling baby flesh as everyone else. The difference between me and some other dude is I started training myself at an early age. You will never be more than a beta, useful tool of women and the State unless you put your ass on the line, get it kicked and get back up to get beat down again, and again. But don’t be a dumb ass about it. You don’t climb Mt Everest’s on your 1st day of hiking.

If you want to be the man, be the fucking man. It is your decision, but it isn’t easy. You will carry the scars on your body, mind and soul, but I promise you, it’s worth every scar, every moment of pain and suffering because the joys are savage and beyond words to describe. Unrepentant, relentless and unreconstructed masculinity is God’s second greatest gift and held exclusively for men. He set us above women, animals and all else on this earth to take dominion over all things but Himself and this gift is how. We are the men who protect the tribe and push it to the heights of achievement. Not the beta who follows the script. Betas are supporting roles; which is important but they are also playing the supporting role in their own life; letting life happen to them vs them happening to life. Being beta is safe and easy, being a man is dangerous and painful. It means freeing yourself from false constraints. Being this kind of man is neither moral nor immoral. Your actions determine that.

The great minds of Western Civilization are the other side of the same coin. Newton, Edison etc are the mental version of men like me. Relentless and unwavering in their quest to expand knowledge, thereby expanding himself and be default, his tribe. The mindset and frame is the same; the playing field is different. These men are to be respected

This last bit, I have no idea how to work it in, but I have been accused of being nihilistic. Another load of horseshit. There is no part of my life that fits the definition as I understand the term. I own houses, engage in business ventures, mentor young men, tend to my kin, support two political causes, rescue dogs, help my buddy with his horse rescue stuff, support a charity that supports SpecOps veterans and their family. I don’t believe our social ills will self correct and think men should focus their efforts on other things (building their family’s strength) but I do not waste much of my money, time, effort or the natural talents and abilities I was blessed with. Doesn’t seem any part of nihilism to me

But I get this kind of bullshit pretty often. My theory is, masculinity has been so watered down men no longer recognize it and most fear it.


58 thoughts on “What’s the difference between a Ranger and a mule? A mule knows when to give up.

    1. sfcton Post author

      damn and I hate those limey bastards…… have to its a family tradition. Nothing personal

      more seriously that’s how you get shit done and who got more shit done then the English?

  1. Liz

    I’m just not sure you’re badass enough, Ton.
    Have you ever gone for a swim in boiling oil? Jumped into a live volcano? Wrestled a great white? 🙂

    I am very sorry about your brother. 😦

  2. Liz

    Just to add, your observations remind me a bit of Scott Adams’ observations in his book, ‘How to fail at almost everything and still win big’.

    In Adams’ case of course, they’re not quite such physically and psychologicall trying ordeals…but the point is the same, his vast success was the product of a conscious strategy of managing opportunities in a way that eventually channeled success. I try to channel that, too…in a less badass way of course. But girls should have their own version, if somewhat pussified by comparison.

    1. sfcton Post author

      lol girls should be girls

      I don’t understand the don’t try, I compare it to agreeing to be the worlds prison bitch. Every man who is a slave or a bitch made that decision. He can always choose to die fighting.

  3. Sumo

    I think that part of the reason that some folks think of you as “Superman” has to do with the lack of manliness in general in today’s society. The fact that you’re a Ranger/SF vet is the epitome of masculinity, which a lot of guys are understandably envious of/enamored with.

    Another part of the reason would be the fact that you busted your ass to get where you are, which is another quality that men respect, especially those who don’t have the stones to do it themselves.

    Bottom line, you’re a dude whom I admire.

    Even if you are a hillbilly. 😀

    1. sfcton Post author

      I see all kinds of bad ass dues as bad ass as we are. How about those guys drilling for oil on the north slope? Or working as a trapper or crab fisherman? or big wave surfers?

      here is another group folks forget about; entertainers. Not my kind of hard ass, but look how competitive it is and how long they spend failing before they make it?

      1. BuenaVista

        I left my most recent church because of the pastor’s insistence on hugs. Lots of hugs. Always, hugs. Occasionally, tears. Then more man-eriffic hugs. It was like we were proving ourselves to be almost as hug-worthy as a high school field hockey team.

        Thank you, but don’t worry about me, Liz. Life actually lived is a J-curve. Then it’s another J-curve, and then? A J-curve.

      1. BuenaVista

        That’s a new one for me. I just quote Luther and scowl, typically. Luther did not fuck around with feel-good Jesus-is-my-boyfriend crap. It’s like we’re all supposed to put on a nice little white dress (what Jesus is wearing in all these churches, since they are organized for and by the wives) and talk about how Jesus makes us *feel*. Jesus doesn’t care how we feel. We’re supposed to have bigger fish to fry.

        Anyway: hugging: if we didn’t just sell the company or win the Series, no hugging. And in fact, I never hugged at a closing. I just got out as fast as I could sign the papers in order to ski or fly or fish … and get drunk for a week. (Well, I might have focused on one other activity.) And then, as always, another J-curve.

      2. Sumo

        Well, I’m not a very nice person, and I have very few inhibitions when it comes to stopping people from touching me if I don’t want them too. The best part about the aforementioned technique is that it’s quick and fairly unnoticeable to anyone besides the person who is, for lack of a better description, getting the finger.

      3. Sumo

        Please don’t choke me!

        Some girls like that sort of thing, Lizard. (Yes, that’s your new nickname. You ain’t the only ebul one, chiquita.)

        They all like sort of thing Sumo, its just a matter of ignoring what they say and paying attention to how wet the kitty grts

      4. Liz

        ” its just a matter of ignoring what they say and paying attention to how wet the kitty grts

        While that might be true, it’s also annoying as sh*t.
        “You like that don’t you?”
        “He, he, he, I can tell you like it…”
        “Shut up! No, I don’t.”
        “He, he, he…”

        LOL thats why there isn’t any dialogue about it

  4. BuenaVista

    I guess I’ve hugged my dad, and my brother, this year. And one of my sons. Other than that, I don’t hug males. If I’m not involved with her, I don’t hug a female (they get pecks on the cheek). Something about Christians, though, equates hugging with elevated consciousness. (I think it’s because conservative Christian churches are so feminized that the leadership emulates their female masters; fmi, Why Men Don’t Go to Church, by David Murray.) This is about a logical as the notion that those idiotic praise songs (the pseudo-soft-rock songs with choruses that are repeated 18 times) bring one closer to God. For men, 24″ is close enough, that’s hand-shaking distance, if I even want to shake your hand, and thank you very much for remembering that.

    I have a very high-alpha friend (HAF) who works in the sporty side of the USG. His firm is the largest investor in my company. He’s from the rural midwest so we’re tribal colleagues and get the same wry jokes and cynical observations about hothouse, corrupt DC. He grew up poor, now he’s rich, but he drives a beater half-ton or a recent Mustang, which are not cool cars inside the beltway. He was a college basketball player and has worked for the same politician, who climbed the ladder all the way to candidate for president for a couple of decades. He is about the most discreet man I have ever met; while we are close, he doesn’t even email me, except to say, “Call.”

    Anyway, for reasons not important, last year I took some time off. I got kinda drunk one day and fired off a memo noting that the days of my being every fucker’s drafthorse provider were done. Over. I’d had it with everyone’s (my private investors’) tales of Namibian safaris and G-IVs to Paris and duck blinds in Louisiana and hobby farming and all the bullshit while I’m getting up at 3-4 a.m. and making them money while my son is kidnapped by the system. It was an improvident memo, scandalous really, from a ceo in whom people had invested much. It wasn’t their fault I was mixed up with a dark triad woman. But I was burned out and emotional because I had lost a great deal of motivation owing to my situation with son. (What women often misunderstand, or simply don’t care to understand because they don’t have to, is that a drafthorse, greater beta man who loses his hearth and home really has no reason to live.) I had a year into red pill study at this point, so at least I had a few tools available with which to change. Though actually changing is harder than reading a book.

    Well. I sobered up and realized that every one who got the memo must figure I was a burnt-out case and disqualified to fucking breath. However my HAF just called and said we should meet for drinks, we squared up the time and place, and we did.

    He proceeded to tell me that he wondered if his marriage or life had any value whatsoever, of their own merit I mean, because as far as he could see he was just another clydesdale, too, pulling someone else’s wagon. He told me how his wife just “didn’t know any more” where the marriage was headed, despite 25 years of successful monogamy, healthy children, financial success (his, she’s SAHM), and on and on. We talked about how his church spent Sundays telling the men to man-up for Jesus and make their wives h-a-a-p-p-i-er. We talked for a long time about the subjects that Ton and the other guys articulate in this space. Understand, prior to this conversation, we essentially communicated in code, with knowing references and emotional nods for affirmation. He asked me what I reading that had produced my new perspective, I gave him references and we decided to meet for drinks twice a month to continue talking.

    This was one of the most personal, if not intimate conversations, I’ve had in my life. We didn’t hug, we don’t hug, and I’ll drop him if he suggests I join him at Promisekeepers for some hugging.

    1. Sumo

      To add a complete reversal of my earlier statement, on Saturday night I took part in a pop-up restaurant deal that some friends/business associates were holding. About 3 months of planning & recipe testing went in to this venture, which my friends are hoping to transition into a permanent business. One dish on the menu, 100 customers. We sold out in less than 20 minutes, and managed to get everyone served in just over an hour.

      Ramen, if anyone was curious. Japanese noodle soup.

      Anyhow, the event was a success, and there ended up being a lot of manly hugs and backslaps being traded all around between myself, the chefs, and the noodle guys.

      And no fingers to the throat.

      1. Sumo

        The chef and the noodle guys wanted to create a “regional” version, much like the way it’s done in Japan, so they came up with a double broth – pork and dashi, topped with pulled pork, braised pork belly, corn, green onions, and a soft boiled egg that was marinated in a secret solution (it’s secret because I forgot to ask what was in it). It was pretty damn tasty.

        bad ass Sumo. I am happy for you. It takes balls to step out like that. What’s the end goal? going to open your own shop?

        My favorite is wonton mein with roast duck and pork dumplings; not Japaneses but yummy

      2. Sumo

        Brother, I could make you a pork dumpling that would leave you in tears of joy with its delicious awesomeness.

        I agree with the needing of balls for a venture like this; I have to reiterate, though, that this was not my deal. I was just lending a hand where I was able. The boys do eventually want to open their own shop, and have asked me to help out, but it’s their dream, not mine.

        Personally, I’m still trying to learn as much as I can before I make any plans. I view this as me being a kitchen yellow belt, working my way up to black belt. It’s going to take time and effort, but I intend to work as hard I as can and kick as much ass as I need to in order to get there. At some point, I would love to have my own Japanese BBQ joint. 😀

        good luck bro. any time you want to do a guest post on cooking let me know

      3. Sumo

        I could probably cook up some sort of guest post (I had to use the cheesy pun – just had to. Call it a moral failing), just give me a few days to think up a coherent theme.

        LOL I have the same failing…. awesome Sumo

      4. Sumo

        Welp, I wrote up some semi-coherent info, so if you want to slide me your email addy, I’ll fire it off to you and you can decide if you want to bring down the quality of this site by posting it.

  5. BuenaVista

    Incidentally, I note that Liz’s comment doesn’t deserve a jeremiad on hugging, it’s simply a point of departure. She’s just being friendly Liz, and it’s inappropriate for a good wife to blow kisses at strange men.

  6. BuenaVista

    Okay, I am splitting logs today, I will have to speculate on the density of Liz’ butt another time.

    Ton, o/t, but I have a buddy who built the log splitter from hell: 18 hp motor, hydraulic cylinder off a dump truck’s crushing action, 18″ wheels, 60″ feed-ramp. The log sections we can load are so large they have to be placed with a front-end loader. Fortunately, I’m the pity-party in this crew and get to run the tractor.

    1. sfcton Post author

      Nice, you fellas sure do take the winter a lot more serious then we do. The girls haven’t ran the AC in a few weeks, and the wood stove won’t be used until Dec but that is one bad ass contraption

      1. BuenaVista

        Farmer’s Almanac says this winter will be worse than the last. Laugh, but their accuracy over the years is 80%. The last winter was the worst in 30 years, and the frost line was 7-8 feet below surface level. I lost 15 of my 18 roses and half of my serviceberry hedge. When you’re older it truly sucks to have to start over with your garden, trees, and shrubs.

        Of course, the other reason to cut a lot of wood is the same as why my hardass buddy (he ran the .50 cal on his APC out of Pleiku, thought it was fun) has 300 gallons of diesel in his shed, two M-1 carbines, 3000 rounds of ammo, a quarter steer in his freezer and a generator to keep the freezer working, etc. We never know when things are going to stop working. Of all the pretensions of American society, the best one is that our masters will look out for us in times of trouble. We all know that they’ll tell us everything is fine, then tell us we’ll be shot if we leave our homes once the social roof collapses.

        I have a friend from college who is everything we’re not. He’s a retired opera singer who got a degree in psych and is now a therapist. And he’s gay. He lives in suburban NYC, in a high rent suburb in southwestern Connecticut.

        I got a wincing email from him yesterday. Every one of his clients came in last week predicting Ebola-apocalypse. He said to me, “I can’t talk about this with anyone, they’ll think I’m crazy, what do I do to prepare for the apocalypse?” I gave him a list of bug-out prep items to inventory, largely gleaned from your post over at the Obsidian’s A Star blog. He’s preparing now to camp out in a friend’s field up in Vermont for a couple of months, if the shit hits.

        All the knowledge, all the insight, these days, is going underground. This guy is afraid to speak the truth out loud, for fear of social ostracism. Ours is a secret society. If someone gets control of the internet, we’re largely fucked.

      2. Sumo

        Glad I read BV’s last comment re: that other blog before I cracked open a beer. It’s not easy cleaning that stuff off the monitor after it snorts out of my nose.

  7. sfcton Post author

    I hear you BV you never know, but I have more tanks of propane then I can count with my shoes on.

    I sent a real basic write up about the Ebola to J4G’s. I’ll post it here ifin y’all want

    If I understand correctly, NYC has a large African immigrant population on top of a large international airport and I’d take the ebola deal a lot more serious there then I would in the rural mid-west

    1. BuenaVista

      Where I live, there are three protein plants (pork, poultry, eggs). More protein is produced here than any place in Murrica. White people don’t want to kill hogs anymore, so the town is 70% immigrant, some of them from places I didn’t know existed. We’ll see what happens, but ISIS is already across the Rio Grande, ebola who the fuck knows? If the virus is airborne, Walking Dead is not a metaphor any longer.

      1. sfcton Post author

        They use to say the same thing about White folk here in NC, then a sheriff busted a whole slaughter plant full of illegals and there were over 300 applications for 17 jobs

        employers favor illegals because it saves on taxes/ benefit packages and they can treat the illegals like slaves and they cannot/ do not say shit

  8. redpillgirlnotes

    As always interesting stuff. I agree there are dreamers and there are do-ers. Lots of people talk about what they want but few actually take the action to make it reality. Works for me, as I figure that leaves the gates wide open for Bloom and other do-ers to get er done. Tenacity is a trait I respect highly, being scrappy can go a long way. I try to model and instill those traits in my kids and hope if they learn nothing else from me they will learn this.

    Bv I am with you on the hugger types. Especially those I hardly know but they act as if we are long lost best friends. Boundries, people! 😉 I tolerate them but will deftly dodge their enthusiastic pursuit if I can. I am pretty standoffish in general, except w my nearest and dearest. With them I am very affectionate.

    As for the density of Liz’s tush I am betting the glutes are well toned! Lol.

      1. BuenaVista

        I love it when women say they don’t check out women. They do it more than we do, and way more critically.

        hell yea they do. I use to…. not really date but cat around town with a model when I lived in Hawaii. She was very successful there, had goodly sale in various other Polynesian markets plus Japan. She would dress up like a traditional hula girl and do her thing, mostly calenders and tourist stuff like that and was a local brewer’s beer girl. Girls would giver her the death stare everywhere we went because she could pull off the high end hooker look they couldn’t. The guys would be amazed the girls bitches. She was a cool chick overall too

  9. Liz

    Lol! I never show my ass in public.
    (…unless of course everyone else is showing their ass, and then it’s just polite. When in Rome, and all that.)


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