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One Who Nigs

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  1. One Who Nigs

    Ability

    I should, myself, likely re-read the arguments in Mentzer's book, but however, I see from the posts that he seems to be a person who has not yet been mentioned, and I should note that his knowledge with regards to excercise science is very great, and for anyone who is interested in it, I advise you to read his book! He was a pioneer in excercise science, and his reasoning may be used as a base for analyzing any academic articles and academic statistics. -Marcus
  2. One Who Nigs

    Ability

    I should like to join this debate. This is an interesting topic, because until this time, the idea of "genetic ability" by me has been grossly misunderstood. However, as I currently do not have the time to read all of the replies, I should like to simply quote myself from another post "I think that this is the subject of another debate, for I do believe that to a certain extent a man's mind has a physical process. Or in other words, a man with a greater forehead has more potential that a man without, though whether or not he utilizes his potential is a matter of his own volition. Man's mind, like his body, has physical limits, too, and as such certain men are geniuses and certain men are not. Not everyone is a Salvador Dali, Shakespeare, or Mentzer, for that matter..." I think that there is much to be said with regards to one's interests. And I also do think that with regards to this, the degree to which a man may pursue his pleasure is the degree to which his mind is predisposed to competence in any given endeavour. To prove this, I point to the simple illustration of a basketball player. What is a professional basketball player? The answer is that professional basketball player is a man who has a poet's passion for basketball. What is professional basketball player? It is a black man whos merits from his race have given him the ability to jump higher than other men (for the most part, there are exceptions). What is a professional basketball player? It is, in essence, a man who possesses both desire and innate ability. I think that upon this point one may ponder the reason of men's interests, that being that the reason of this is a combination of both their wit and will, both their wisdom and talent. The root motivation for a man who says that you are "so gifted" or are "so talented", though he himself may not understand it, is simply out of genuine benevolence. What I mean by this is that he truly admires your work and your passion for it, though most men have automated their evasions to such a level that they do not even think any other mode of thought possible. Such is the reason for this. I, personally, could not pursue my life's passion as a bodybuilder, for my genetics simply prescribe that the degree to which I may enjoy bodybuilding is limited, because it is with much difficulty that my body gains mass. For more on this subject, I refer you to Mike Mentzer's Heavy Duty: Mind and Body (I think that is what it is called, it has been so long since I read it) I think that this proves an adequate point, and I will go back and read your posts to see if anyone has yet said this. Sincerely, -Marcus
  3. Good blog, negroid. I have bookmarked it and I enjoyed reading your entries.
  4. Well until an admin moves this I might as well keep posting in it. Here is a poem inspired by a girl in another thread who corrected my statement. It is called "I stand corrected" I stand corrected for I never went, into that action malevolent, until I thought I be so bold, that another man I could have told, one moral lesson I have learned, for admiration's desire I shouldst not churn. Thank you, miss.
  5. One more thing, which is the reason of my original comment. It is just that you sounded like a man who was a attacking me, rather than a woman who was respecting me (which is something that I am not used to in my daily routine). Once again, apologies. And yes, I really don't think that you understand what I am talking about
  6. Could an admin move this to the productivity page? I didn't actually know that there was such a section. Thanks.
  7. I apologize, and this time sincerely. -Marcus
  8. I apologize, next time I will respond without offering an opinion. I say you, sir, you should take your debate to the debate area of the forum. Owned.
  9. I think that this is the subject of another debate, for I do believe that to a certain extent a man's mind has a physical process. Or in other words, a man with a greater forehead has more potential that a man without, though whether or not he utilizes his potential is a matter of his own volition. Man's mind, like his body, has physical limits, too, and as such certain men are geniuses and certain men are not. Not everyone is a Salvador Dali, Shakespeare, or Mentzer, for that matter. Also, I think that perhaps a few of my jokes are just too subtle. Perhaps you have a point, however, with meaningless words, but this next version which I currently consider "tentatively finished" I think might have one or two. For my mind's illustrative purposes, however, I use them to keep the beat going, and on occasion I actually end up abstracting real words from my past memories. Of course, I do end up correcting the ones that are wrong. Anyhow, debating isn't what I care about. I only care about poetry. Here is the finished version. Damn is it annoying having to rebold and rehighlight. The Conversation with the Irrational Self Upon my last due conversation with men of whims and skilled evasions I found a man of bold convictions who supercede his stern afflictions Upon which head I thought myself a noble gent and benevolent but Violence queries are not my theory and hence I begun my conversation: What whims what wits what bold evasions Do leisure you and your mind's contusions? Of substance theories are not religion: Such is the realm of supersition! Elegant was he in his response, Ensconced his mind remained ensconced. "No man I am no man at all so just I am indeed unjust. Minds are robust, they are robust But use my mind I mustn't must!" Then of which rinde is your great mind? Is it but but of the human kind? Do apples app and oranges orn, or in your mind is there but a thorn? Obtuse was not his certainty, yet such a will is undeserve'd Patience whim is patience quim (rofl, this means vagina) and quims is what his mind deserve'd. (Holy shit that was an And 1 quality rhyme) "Amongst you I am unphased, phased and praised for it is twat I desire, Listen listen, to the choir, 'Listen listen, to the choir.' " And hence this man was soon dispensed to earth to liberty and to his freedom. Seeing gleens and brilliant sheens from his right and not his left. He had a gun, he had a gun, but guns are not what he desires. Excuse me sir, but do you have a gun? "Why indeed, I do so yes" What is the source of that gun's power? "It is my mind, indeed I yes" What trickles upon your mode of evasion? "The psychology of its good mechanism..." If light be split from Newton's prisms, and woes reflect from crismson wisdom, Reflection is not telescopic; reflection is not telescopic! And hence is the same with moral ideas, they too, may not be be reflected, from each our own unto them, volition is how they be erected! "Excuse me sire, but I may read your mind, patience too is not of your kind... do you remember the brilliant theories you once held in highest query?" Bombast and indeed it is atrocious, a man reads minds with wit and wisdom, upon what hour is my circumcision, (XD) upon what hour my own volition? (or upon what hour is my circumcision, again, not really sure which is better) Checking my premises for for burg and burglars, I discover a lurking lurglar, He is I and I am him, Him who dost desire the quim. Excuse me, again, but what is your method? "Evasion, sir, evasion, sir" What is your method!?What is your method!? "The psychology of its good mechanism..." What mad you are, what mad you are! "Mad I am, mad I am" What willfull atrocity and- "vicious dichotomy" What bold afflictions and- "...willful contradictions", What are you? "I am mad" Who are you "I was you" Where are you? "Behind you. Next time you need to check your premises for burgs and burgs and lurking lurglars!" I saw that this man had a gun, a gun, a gun, and not a pun! I saw that he had had glock, (and beside it a MASSIVE cock) I saw that he also had a magnum (and beside a trojan condom!) I saw that he had had some wisdom, wisdom which he thunk it crimson, but blood is crimson and I am not, so punch his face I do not naught. This lurking burglar or burging lurglar, is the essence of man's affliction. When you see him, punch his face As an act of your own volition. Next time sir, if I may kill you. "I do hope hope that you aren't repeating" Hope it naught, for hope it naught: This is what I ought to ought! And hence I took his massive glock, and hence he took his willing magnum: Pointed it at me, he did, he did. But shoot me never knew I would. "Shoot me", he said, "or you are dead." "Shoot me", he said, "as an act of volition." So I shot him, so I shot him. Rid I am of contradiciton. All the hoes in the house say "what!?" And I'm glad that you liked it.
  10. Damn I messed up my edit. Here is the poem that was supposed to post. In essence, it is the feeling that I get every time I see a beautiful woman. It also alludes to that which a painter sees when he looks at a good landscape. (Hence the references to the points and what not) If anyone wants to know what anything means, holler at your boy (me). The Psychology of a Beautiful View, or that of a View of a Beautiful Woman Far past the reach of the eastern roads and the feign of logic which is some men's code, there lies a point not yet uncovered a point not new but long since discovered. Beyond horse's whines and the neighs of men: A place in which I have always been! The place of which but not a query exists with aim to destory my theory This point I describe is not one geometric, nor one supposed from reality apart: A point is that which has no part, and parts is art and art is parts. The place I describe is my enduring vision, for wit and wisdom naught cynicism. The place I describe I do annoint, the place I describe is Lookout Point! And here is just one more thing: "Good night, good night" the patrons said, for spine is gold and wit is bread. Night
  11. I disagree with the original poster, and moreover I have fond memories of this book. The fundamental thing professed in this book is not, as the academics would interpret, one which professes altruism, but one which professes man's allegiance to nature, ie. the fact that man uses nature to shape his ideal world. This book is somewhat ambiguous in intellectual circles, and what I mean by that is that the true meaning of the book is a very controversial topic debated amongst intellectuals. Altruism is absolutely not the predominant ideal in this book, and moreover I think that you are mistaken with regards to your reasoning. But, however, I do think that there is something to be said about our socialized school system, that being that it lends itself towards the misportrayal of great classics. For example, in my high school English class, classics such as Moby Dick and others (which I cannot remember the name of at the moment), are split up into tidbits, i.e. we never got to actually read the book, but we rather read a short summary of it. I think that you have to consider the entirety of the context of the situation with regards to this, being that if your reasoning is not sharp enough, you might make the mistake of jumping to conclusions (based upon the false premonitions of your school teachers).
  12. For procrastrination's sake, I'm going to post a few other poems here too: This one is a critique of academia: Men of Science, or Men of Mars? Those considered to be wise have plugged their ears and shut their eyes. For no matter the case I present, my reasoning they circumvent. They say "all knowledge has been created and must simply be assimilated" "Its pointless for us to further query, for of what substance is your theory?" Elegant am I in my response, yet in their ways they stay ensconced, "Countless hours have I invested towards ensuring that it's well tested." Time and time I have it proved, yet these wise men remain unmoved. Of what opinion does my head comprise? That convincing them will yield some prize? Despite my words being sublime, I realise that I'm wasting time, and from such men I need reprieve, so unto them I take my leave. That is all for now. Thanks for looking -Marcus
  13. This is a poem that I just started. It is definitely the best single thing I have ever written. Here it is: The Conversation with the Irrational Self Upon my last due conversation with men of whims and skilled evasions I found a man of bold convictions who supercede his stern afflictions Upon which head I thought myself a noble gent and benevolent but Violence queries are not my theory and hence I begun my conversation: What whims what wits what bold evasions Do leisure you and your mind's contusions? Of substance theories are not religion: Such is the realm of supersition! Elegant was he in his response, Ensconced his mind remained ensconced. "No man I am no man at all so just I am indeed unjust. Minds are robust, they are robust But use my mind I mustn't must!" Then of which rinde is your great mind? Is it but but of the human kind? Or is it apples or is it oranges or is it thorns or quims or wornges (which is a tentative word I made up out o' my ass, not really sure if quim is a word either but it sounds cool) So this is as far as I am in this poem, and I just had to drive to the supermarket so I got off my roll. I know that I have a natural talent for poetry, which is quite odd because my normal writing isn't so articulate. Perhaps I'm lazy and diuretic cuz bitch I think it is genetic (I write rap lyrics too, as of now at least). Anyhow I've unfortunately got to go do some English homework, wish me luck. -Marcus
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