So many today try to project themselves as the big cat machismo, he-man, or otherwise known as a bad-ass.  We see this both with men and women.  Even children now have gotten into the act, busying themselves with killing fellow classmates, parents; nothing is sacred or stone unturned.  Women drive by with their automobiles shooting fingers at the car ahead of them.  Children are defiant and tell their parents to f*** off, out of their lives.  However, after talking with veterans, and watching things like that on historical television documentaries, the Normandy Invasion, Viet Nam or in Iraq, you don’t see these images come across over there in those conflicts.  You don’t see cops, who over here don’t mind jumping on a 62 year old and beating the snot out of them.  No.  In fact, I’ve seen two videos where heads were being knifed off in Iraq and they didn’t strike me as being bad either.  In fact, none of these BAD people are bad when being confronted with an equal or greater force.  So then, if the bad-asses aren’t bad-asses–why the need for a mask?  What’s so baaaaaaaaaad about picking up girls, having sex, dumping them and getting another, or about walking around like it’s Muscle Beach, Ca. inside your living room? I suppose that’s being a REEEEEEEEAL man.   What’s so bad about these people … where what’s really being bad, i.e., means good is wiping those tears whenever a tottler cries, when faced with the fact that when undressed, we are alone and naked the same as when entering the world.  That the greatest fear is overcoming that enemy within, the one that stalks us night and day where all we are really looking for is peace.  Being a real man, showing real strength is turning aside from personal affronts, is forgiving, is taking something even though you know that you’re being wronged.  Being a man is walking within the aura of our spirit-man, an experience of real strength, because it is not afraid of all our imperfections and weaknesses.  In spite of all of this, if you think you’re bad, then God help you.  All you really want is not to feel so very, very fragile.  The fact is, you’re only a soft-boiled egg.  Not bad at all for a true bad-ass.


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