If you want to know why I enlisted in the Marine Corps at 17, or if you want to know why I sought out formal combatives training, earned my black belt and competed regularly, or if you want to know why I own a gun, and trained and educated myself in psychology and sociology, the answer lies back in that dimly lit high school one morning long ago, with that finger in my eye. Nobody was coming to help. It was just me and the six or seven guys who didn't like me.
It was something that was reinforced a few years later in the dark city streets near a bus stop in Oceanside, California. There was no one to help me then either, and this time it was more than pride at stake. That day saw a significant change in how I viewed personal safety. I walked away that day, and the other guy didn't . Because I knew no one was going to rescue me, and no one was going to scare this bully away.
At the end of the day, when the chips are down, the only person responsible for the safety of you and your loved ones... Is you.
In those critical moments between 911 and the arrival of police, fire or EMS, you have to keep you alive. No one else will do it. No one else can.
The purpose of this week's brief entry is not to sound paranoid, but to give you all an idea on where my mind lies when we return next week. I have offended several people with my views on recent events, and I will go into them next week in the final installment of this "season."
We are all the product of our life's experience. Today, you have seen some of mine.
The next time you find yourself alone, or uncomfortable I hope you won't have to experience what I have experienced...
That we are still savages.
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