Post by Elijah Martin on Jul 30, 2022 16:36:21 GMT -5
Nothing is truly pure. Try as we might, purity is quite impossible to attain. Science has developed various methods, such as column chromatography to attempt to grasp this elusive concept. But it simply cannot be done.
The reason purity can never exist is due to the presence of Chaos, an entity dedicated to destroying all forms of order. And no matter what we do, Chaos will counter order, despite Mankind’s greatest efforts.
This may sound like a reason to despair. For no person is of pure heart. No experience can convey complete and utter fulfillment. No book is perfect, no action completely selfless, no morals true, nothing that is created, that exists, or that occurs can ever be entirely good.
No movement can be without friction. No project can be completed without obstacles. No life is lived without heartbreak and sorrow. No structure is built without destruction…
But is this not beautiful? If nothing can be pure, then everything is an amalgamation. A chef combines a torrent of ingredients, foods, and spices to create a dish. And though the recipe may remain constant, no meal can be exactly the same. No solution is entirely formed of one molecule. It is an innumerable amount of microscopic collisions, different molecules interacting and smashing against each other… sometimes reacting to form new compounds.
“The Only Constant in Life Is Change.”- Heraclitus
This statement not only holds true when placed in the context of our ever-changing environment. It holds true when placed in the context of ourselves. Nothing is pure, and we are all an amalgamation of many things. As we acquire experiences and interact with others, we fall subject to Chaos and change.
Our very existence is a result of this Chaos. In a very real sense, Mankind is the child of Chaos, emerging from millions of years of evolution and change. If we have any purpose, it is to facilitate this change. To promote impurity.
When we look into ourselves, down into the essence of who we are, what do we see? I see corruption. I have been corrupted by those around me. Who I am is made up of my brother, Mother, Father, friends, and countless others. I am influenced and changed by the music I listen to, the videos I watch, and quite frankly, everything I experience.
This is true for all of us. We are all grand sculptures. Day by day, moment by moment, we are being tediously worked upon — tediously shaped into something beautiful. We are carved and chiseled until the day we die.
Yet because we are all the creation of the influences that surround us, we must then all be artists ourselves. By living our lives and contributing to the inherent impurity of life, we participate in the active shaping of those around us.
It is in this way that we are all connected, whether we realize it or not.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I know, I can hear the moans and groans of confusion from ninety-nine percent of you wrestling fans who don’t understand: Elijah doesn’t reflect the ideals of something called The Pure Cup, Elijah is a bum, Elijah can’t win any of the big matches, Elijah can’t handle the pressure… blah blah blah. And with my recent performances here in Action Wrestling, a small percentage of you could provide some legitimate arguments to support your cases. I’ve put in what I believed to be solid efforts and they haven’t paid off at all since Evolution almost two months ago. It’s been a rough stretch with a dash of bad luck and a sprinkle of personal life getting in the way… there isn’t anything I can say or do that would provide reasonable excuses to explain any of that. But in the end, professional wrestling is supposed to be hard. If it wasn’t hard, then everyone would do it - the hard is what makes it great.
There’s an old friend of mine from back on the Indy circuit who used to say this once in a while, and I find it highly appropriate for me right now: When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves. Over the last two months, I have relied on raw aggression and ultra violence and brawling, fighting without rules and with complete disregard for my body, no matter what the consequences to the end result of those matches. So maybe this is a blessing in disguise, maybe this is the opportunity I have needed, being one of four lucky individuals selected to take part in Pure Cup 3. But then, I take a look at my draw for the Opening Round, and I find myself pitted against John Black.
This man wants to come out and claim to have respect for me, that he knows me from somewhere, that we are pretty similar dudes… brother, the only thing similar between us are the recent struggles we have endured in Action Wrestling. I don’t rap… you’re a Baltimore guy who probably loves crab cakes, while I’m from the Bronx and nothing can beat a dirty water street dog… and most importantly, I don’t second guess whether or not I belong in this business. Professional wrestling is the only thing that has ever loved me back as long as it has, which is almost twenty years! I’ve given my mind, body and soul for this sport, and I’ll be damned if someone who doesn’t even know if they want to be a true wrestler beats me in this one night tournament! Yeah, we both like to brawl, but you clearly ain’t got the heart and desire to succeed in the squared circle like I do, so I’ll take care of putting the final nails in your coffin in North Dakota.
Looking across the bracket to the possible options for the Finals, we start with Void… The Last Seraph… meaning the last angelic being, belonging to the highest order of celestial hierarchy. Upon initial examination, this tournament might seem like a good fit for someone of that description, with angels typically being seen as pure and free of sin. However, there is a clear problem this time - The Angel of Death is on the other side of the bracket. There’s no door frame to cover in lamb’s blood, there’s no sacrificial ceremony on a mountaintop… no Passover, no savior… just pure annihilation and devastation of biblical proportions. No prophets, no saviors, no deities of any kind can save what’s in store for you.
And finally, there’s Mister King of Sexy himself from Sin City, the poster boy of feel good kiss ass cucks like himself, Jonny Cedrone. This dude wants to walk around and act like he’s fucking Bruce Wayne and that he’s such a good person because he donates money to charities and he loves to save the animals… makes me fucking sick! If you were smart, you would have created a massive cemetery with a beautiful ten-story hospital next to it, so all of the bodies and souls I destroy have a short field trip from the morgue to the dirt. Nobody cares about your charitable works, nobody cares how many wishes you made come true with Make-A-Wish kids, and NOBODY CARES about how much money you are making in the fucking stock market! For somebody who lives in Sin City, you sound like the softest pussy imaginable! All of the bosses who founded and built that city into what it is today would be ashamed to know somebody like you is a representative face of Las Vegas! If you make the finals by some miracle, I am going to embarrass and make a mockery of you and everything you stand for. I’m going to show that the fighting capital is no longer Las Vegas, it’s the fucking Bronx baby!
Plain and simple everyone - The Pure Cup is MINE!!
The reason purity can never exist is due to the presence of Chaos, an entity dedicated to destroying all forms of order. And no matter what we do, Chaos will counter order, despite Mankind’s greatest efforts.
This may sound like a reason to despair. For no person is of pure heart. No experience can convey complete and utter fulfillment. No book is perfect, no action completely selfless, no morals true, nothing that is created, that exists, or that occurs can ever be entirely good.
No movement can be without friction. No project can be completed without obstacles. No life is lived without heartbreak and sorrow. No structure is built without destruction…
But is this not beautiful? If nothing can be pure, then everything is an amalgamation. A chef combines a torrent of ingredients, foods, and spices to create a dish. And though the recipe may remain constant, no meal can be exactly the same. No solution is entirely formed of one molecule. It is an innumerable amount of microscopic collisions, different molecules interacting and smashing against each other… sometimes reacting to form new compounds.
“The Only Constant in Life Is Change.”- Heraclitus
This statement not only holds true when placed in the context of our ever-changing environment. It holds true when placed in the context of ourselves. Nothing is pure, and we are all an amalgamation of many things. As we acquire experiences and interact with others, we fall subject to Chaos and change.
Our very existence is a result of this Chaos. In a very real sense, Mankind is the child of Chaos, emerging from millions of years of evolution and change. If we have any purpose, it is to facilitate this change. To promote impurity.
When we look into ourselves, down into the essence of who we are, what do we see? I see corruption. I have been corrupted by those around me. Who I am is made up of my brother, Mother, Father, friends, and countless others. I am influenced and changed by the music I listen to, the videos I watch, and quite frankly, everything I experience.
This is true for all of us. We are all grand sculptures. Day by day, moment by moment, we are being tediously worked upon — tediously shaped into something beautiful. We are carved and chiseled until the day we die.
Yet because we are all the creation of the influences that surround us, we must then all be artists ourselves. By living our lives and contributing to the inherent impurity of life, we participate in the active shaping of those around us.
It is in this way that we are all connected, whether we realize it or not.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I know, I can hear the moans and groans of confusion from ninety-nine percent of you wrestling fans who don’t understand: Elijah doesn’t reflect the ideals of something called The Pure Cup, Elijah is a bum, Elijah can’t win any of the big matches, Elijah can’t handle the pressure… blah blah blah. And with my recent performances here in Action Wrestling, a small percentage of you could provide some legitimate arguments to support your cases. I’ve put in what I believed to be solid efforts and they haven’t paid off at all since Evolution almost two months ago. It’s been a rough stretch with a dash of bad luck and a sprinkle of personal life getting in the way… there isn’t anything I can say or do that would provide reasonable excuses to explain any of that. But in the end, professional wrestling is supposed to be hard. If it wasn’t hard, then everyone would do it - the hard is what makes it great.
There’s an old friend of mine from back on the Indy circuit who used to say this once in a while, and I find it highly appropriate for me right now: When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves. Over the last two months, I have relied on raw aggression and ultra violence and brawling, fighting without rules and with complete disregard for my body, no matter what the consequences to the end result of those matches. So maybe this is a blessing in disguise, maybe this is the opportunity I have needed, being one of four lucky individuals selected to take part in Pure Cup 3. But then, I take a look at my draw for the Opening Round, and I find myself pitted against John Black.
This man wants to come out and claim to have respect for me, that he knows me from somewhere, that we are pretty similar dudes… brother, the only thing similar between us are the recent struggles we have endured in Action Wrestling. I don’t rap… you’re a Baltimore guy who probably loves crab cakes, while I’m from the Bronx and nothing can beat a dirty water street dog… and most importantly, I don’t second guess whether or not I belong in this business. Professional wrestling is the only thing that has ever loved me back as long as it has, which is almost twenty years! I’ve given my mind, body and soul for this sport, and I’ll be damned if someone who doesn’t even know if they want to be a true wrestler beats me in this one night tournament! Yeah, we both like to brawl, but you clearly ain’t got the heart and desire to succeed in the squared circle like I do, so I’ll take care of putting the final nails in your coffin in North Dakota.
Looking across the bracket to the possible options for the Finals, we start with Void… The Last Seraph… meaning the last angelic being, belonging to the highest order of celestial hierarchy. Upon initial examination, this tournament might seem like a good fit for someone of that description, with angels typically being seen as pure and free of sin. However, there is a clear problem this time - The Angel of Death is on the other side of the bracket. There’s no door frame to cover in lamb’s blood, there’s no sacrificial ceremony on a mountaintop… no Passover, no savior… just pure annihilation and devastation of biblical proportions. No prophets, no saviors, no deities of any kind can save what’s in store for you.
And finally, there’s Mister King of Sexy himself from Sin City, the poster boy of feel good kiss ass cucks like himself, Jonny Cedrone. This dude wants to walk around and act like he’s fucking Bruce Wayne and that he’s such a good person because he donates money to charities and he loves to save the animals… makes me fucking sick! If you were smart, you would have created a massive cemetery with a beautiful ten-story hospital next to it, so all of the bodies and souls I destroy have a short field trip from the morgue to the dirt. Nobody cares about your charitable works, nobody cares how many wishes you made come true with Make-A-Wish kids, and NOBODY CARES about how much money you are making in the fucking stock market! For somebody who lives in Sin City, you sound like the softest pussy imaginable! All of the bosses who founded and built that city into what it is today would be ashamed to know somebody like you is a representative face of Las Vegas! If you make the finals by some miracle, I am going to embarrass and make a mockery of you and everything you stand for. I’m going to show that the fighting capital is no longer Las Vegas, it’s the fucking Bronx baby!
Plain and simple everyone - The Pure Cup is MINE!!
