I was doing my usual afternoon constitutional routine of weight lifts, push-ups, crunches, when I realized that a push-up is the best representation of a man’s lot in life.
It’s hard as hell because one is actually lifting one’s weight and that’s when one realizes why one stayed away from Lindt specialty chocolates for two years straight.
Did you know that one goddamn chocolate packs 90 freaking calories?! Well, I found out and still had three of them this morning.
But I do not think I will have any more. Because pushing your body is one thing and pushing your body and three chocolates may be too much.
Those mother lovers may be the proverbial feather. Aww! Just messing with you. It won’t if I have something to do about it. And I do. I’m the only one who can do something about it.
Anyhow, as I was pushing against my body’s ‘gravi-ty’, I realized that these push-ups are an accurate portrayal of a man’s calling.
Men are supposed to carry the world on their shoulders. If their shoulders are too weak, too bad. They must get with the program, or die trying. They must rise to the challenge by constantly fortifying their bodies, becoming more robust, hence more capable of dealing with the physical and mental constraints imposed on them by Life.
If they don’t, they end up feminized, emasculated, and despised by both genders.
The only path leads forward, on to Glory. It is a hard, worthy, and rewarding trek. ’tis the only Path to Salvation.
Götterdämmerung 