“Get up, Roc.” Emrys punctuated his command with a kick to my ribs. His feet were all business, with a steel toed boot to reinforce his point.

“Back off!” I came to my feet in one well-practiced motion, clenching my fist for a haymaker at his head. I instead loosed the contents of my stomach all over myself.

“I’ve got orders to give you more and better.” That was Valkear General Kuan Yida, a Kandjal across his back nearly as tall as he was. As near I could tell, he hated the stench of a drunk only marginally more than everyone else I had met. “Shakor wants to see you.”

This was not good news. Prime Minister Maleatu Shakor held information over me that far exceeded the value of anything I still owned, including the fistful of Republic medals I’d been awarded before I put military life behind me and embarked on a career of heavy drinking, far from anyone or anything I cared about. That he had sent Emrys after me meant that however paltry the debt might be to a man of his means, he was serious about getting the most of his investment. That he’d sent Kuan implied that if push came to shove, he be fine with taking it out of my corpse. Both men were feared throughout Amarr space and respected within the Republic. I had once considered them friends, even allies.

“Just get moving, Roc. Now.” Kuan gave me a shove.

“Tell Shakor I’ll come see him in the morning,” I said to Emrys, ignoring Kuan. “Right now I’ve got a headache, and I need my sleep.” I turned back in the direction of my room above another sinkhole pub in the next alley.

I heard the whisper of Kuan’s kandjal coming into play, and the space between my shoulder blades buzzed fiercely in anticipation of the blow. “Not smart, even for you, hero,” he said with the right balance between threat and sarcasm.

I raised my hands slowly and turned around. “That’s saying a lot.” I told him. I didn’t care much for life these days, but even less for the alternative. What I saw on Kuan’s face – or maybe what I didn’t see – convinced me that my true death would mean as little to him as my lives had.

So what makes a man with an unpaid debt to the virtual ruler of the Republic turn himself into a highly visible target? Stubbornness? Stupidity? It hadn’t been ignorance. The Sebeistor who watched the door to Shakor’s favourite “escape” had pulled me aside as I left the convivial warmth of the brothel earlier that night. “A couple of eggers were in here asking for you,” he’d said, pitching his voice above the normal racket of the place. “I told them I’d seen you leaving via public shuttle towards Amamake.”

“Thanks.” I dropped a few small creds into his hand. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

He handed the creds back. “You’d better look out for yourself.” he advised. “I heard you did poorly at the tables tonight.”

“Some nights are better.” I told him, but I couldn’t really remember one right now. Gambling while drunk is probably not the surest path to success.

“Just be invisible for a few days.” he advised as I stepped out into the dim, red-lit quarter. “At least until you can pay those damn immortals whatever debt it is that you owe them.”

I’d nodded my thanks and gone on my way. It was good to think someone still had my back.

So I’d known that my name had been thrown around the lower levels of the stations local to Rens, but the way I’d seen it in my state of carefree inebriation, I still had creds in my pocket, and plenty of drinking, wenching, and gambling to see before I decided which of my war medals to pawn first. So yeah, stupidity might be the answer after all.

Emrys laid a meaty hand on my shoulder and pushed me in the direction of the main promenade. I walked away with Kuan on one side of me and Emrys on the other, my fear fighting it out with numb resolve. I was stuck in the middle, a half-drunk hostage to my own worst judgement.

***

Shakor reclined on a green velvet couch, wrapped in so many fine garments that he looked like an Amarrian Holder instead of the aging, thin ruler of the Minmatar Republic. Fires blazed in every corner of the room, and still he shivered. Last time I’d seen him, he’d look tired and strained; now he looked nine parts dead. He raised an unsteady hand as we entered the room, motioning for us to stop. The room smelled of medicines and sweat and disease – sour and bitter and too sweet all at once.

“I have a task for you,” Shakor croaked. Right to the point. He didn’t look like he could afford to waste words anyway. “It will make things right between us.” The effort of saying that much caused him to break out in a fit of coughing. His skin, pallid from its usual healthy hue, hung on his face like it didn’t fit him any longer, and his blind eyes looked even more dull with what might have been pain.

“What kind of task?” I envisioned several lifetimes of cleaning toilets in every latrine from here to Old Man Star, and that was the pleasant of the thoughts racing through my mind.

“Re-enlist, Colonel. You’re one of the best pilots I’ve known, and Emrys assures me that your time with Ushra’Khan has only made you more of a weapon for my disposal.”

Oh, how I wished he hadn’t said that.

“You want to be square with me, and I want to avoid sending my friends into the bowels of stations looking for you.”

“Leave me.” Shakor murmured. He wiped his mouth, leaving spots of bright blood on a square of cream-coloured silk that probably cost more than my net worth.

I followed the others to toward the door.

“Wieler, you stay.”

Kuan raised an eyebrow, but Emrys just smiled as he closed the door behind them.

“I was going to leave for vacation in Amamake …”

“Alone? Unarmed?” Shakor sank back into the cushions behind him. “I’m not a very great fool – you shouldn’t suppose I enjoy being treated like one.” He gestured me to a nearby chair.

“Why am I really here?”

“Emrys speaks highly of your skills, your courage … apparently you’re still a Republic hero to some.”

“Do I look like a hero to you?” Right now, a week from my last shave and months from a haircut, wearing my only remaining clothes and boots, I didn’t exactly cut a heroic figure.

“You certainly don’t smell like one.” He raised the silk to his nose. “But you’ll be under my roof until you make your decision and re-enlist.” He paused for a breath. “I’m sure we can find you a shower and razor between now and then.”

I listened to Shakor as he slowly detailed his plan, interrupted by considerable coughing and shivering. I would have a new squad under my command, complete with elite trained crews, as well as several shiny ships waiting for me in my recently renovated and paid for personal hangar. Everything ranging from frigates to Command ships, and anything else I wanted in between.

The future safety of the Republic was of the utmost importance, as was keeping a high public profile, and a small, nimble fleet would allow me to shine in the spotlight once again, to remind our people that heroes still existed, to give them hope. We were to engage the Amarr anywhere we found them, giving no fear to attracting Concord’s attention. High sec, low sec, null sec, wormhole space, wherever our guerilla war would take us, so long as it boosted morale amongst the Tribes.

Given all that, Shakor didn’t have to explain that this conversation never happened. He could never be connected to any of this, could never be seen as the master puppeteer pulling strings. I knew in my gut that regardless of the outcome, he would twist it to his long term advantage.

“So sober up,” he told me. “Fit your ships. Meet your crew. Free our people.”

“I don’t particularly want to sober up, but I don’t suppose you’re offering a choice.”

“I’m not. You do this, we call things right, and I’ll even throw in enough credits to enable you to continue drinking yourself to death after you’re done. I’m dying, Roc. I have more important concerns than you.” He rang a small bell.

“No one lives forever, Shakor.” I rose to leave. “In some cases, that’s a good thing.”

He chuckled. “You still have balls, at least enough to insult me to my face on my deathbed.”

“I’m flattered, really, but I was talking about me.”

I didn’t see Shakor after that; he didn’t leave his rooms, and I wasn’t invited back. I wondered if Shakor would live long enough to see this through, regardless of the outcome.

Not that it would matter at the end of the day. Despite the lapses in judgement that had brought me here, I wasn’t entirely stupid. Shakor talked a generous game, but the only thing likely to be cancelled, as I figured it, was me. Once I guided our people to the path of his devising, inciting them to belief and action, I would become a liability – one more person who knew some of the many secrets he was protecting, and not one whose livelihood depended on him. I needed to figure out how I was going to win this game within a game.

***

The floors were pristine. I was already hungry, but suddenly had the urge to eat off the immaculately clean floor. Hundreds of uniformed men and women lined each side of what was once my old hangar bay, three rows deep per side, all holding a crisp salute as I walked in.

I nodded back, still not committed to this, though at the end of the day I knew I had no choice in the matter – the reluctant hero complex and all that – and walked towards the business end of the deck.

A gentle whistle escaped me as I looked at my fleet of ships. They looked straight from the manufacturing line: Rifter hulls, Vagabonds, a Rapier, a few Sleipnirs, even a Tornado. Shakor had definitely undersold on what he had delivered.

As I approached the armoury, two men opened the large bay doors. If I still owned a pair of sunglasses to wear, the shock in my eyes may not have been as noticeable, but as it stood, my jaw hung open dumbly and my eyes widened comically. There in front of me was a massive warehouse addition to my hangar, looking like they had bought, gutted, and rebuilt the neighbouring bay, stocked floor to 300 ft ceiling full of organized ship fittings: Republic ammo, autocannons, artillery, cloaking devices, shield modules, armour plating, dozens of different modifiers – it was like a candy store, but with bullets.

I turned as I heard footsteps, noticing Emrys and Kuan. “You’ll do well, Roc.” Emrys said, a hint of remorse tugging at his lips. “Shame we really never got to know each other better.” he said.

“Shakor spoke about my time in the alliance as if it was past tense.” I commented, understanding what was driving his sentiment.

“It is.” Emrys said flatly. He patted me on the shoulder, then turned and silently made his way out, leaving Kuan and I essentially alone.

“Sasawong liked you.” he began. “I used to think you might be something, but you’re nothing more than a disgrace. You don’t have to prove anything to me personally, and for the life of me I can’t figure out what Shakor sees in you, but when you fail, and you will fail, I’ll be first in line with a smug look of satisfaction on my face, knowing your name will never be heard again in the history books.” With that, he turned on his heel and left.

I didn’t really know what I had to Kuan to piss him off so much, and to be honest, I really didn’t care. I could still walk away from all this. I could pawn what little I had left, live on the run, under the radar – it could happen.

“Sir?” a female voice said, my attention turned towards her. She was beautiful – tall, thin but chesty, long legs, long red hair, flawless skin, high heels … damn.

“That’s Colonel Wieler, darlin’”. I replied, smirking, looking her up and down, forgetting the fact that I stank of booze and was unshaved and unshowered.

In that moment, my heart felt right, my conscious was clear. A heavy weight had been lifted from my very soul.

This was my destiny. This was my calling. I would free the Minmatar. I would crush the Amarr. I would prevail.

“I have an inventory list for us to review. We need to get started.” she said.

“Indeed we do.”

The overly large female Caldari cashier noticed my purchase and commented, “So I guess you’re making me eggs for breakfast?”

Without missing a beat I replied, “I guess that depends on how tonight goes.”

She smiled and laughed (a horribly grating sound), and packaged up my purchase for me.

As I left, she threw out a “Have a great day, darlin.”

It was a beautiful moment.

edification (ˌɛdɪfɪˈkeɪʃən)

— n
1. improvement, instruction, or enlightenment, esp when morally or spiritually uplifting
2. the act of edifying or state of being edified

Edification is the act of making someone else’s day better in a meaningful way without thought of self. Now, if you know me, you know I despise small talk. That’s not to stay I have something against social interaction, I just believe that conversations should be meaningful. They don’t have to be long, just meaningful. If you ask me “How are you?”, I will actually tell you. If you really don’t want to know, don’t ask. I just realized that’s an entirely different rant.

Back to edification.

It doesn’t take much to appreciate someone in a genuine way. A simple yet specific thank you for the way in which someone treated you, or made your day better, or even something more proactive that has no reliance on how you have been treated at all.

“I see how you are with clients and wanted to let you know that I think it’s really a benefit to us.”

“Every morning when I wake up, I smile because you are beside me.”

“I know you don’t know me, but we’ve sat on the same public transit seats every day for years and I just wanted to let you know that you have a beautiful smile.”

Specific comments get thought about. I can prove it.

Here’s a fun little game for those that don’t believe compliments are remembered. The next time you are walking with a friend, compliment their walk. Tell them that you really like the way they walk. Be purposefully vague. Don’t offer any further explanation. I guarantee you they will stumble within five minutes.

Walking is an autonomous function for most of us, requiring no real conscious thought. By drawing our brain to the compliment we just received, we will fixate on how we walk, trying to figure the compliment out, inevitably messing up our stride because we’re thinking about it. It’s a fun game.

Again, I digress.

Sometimes when edifying others, the process is rejected. People are often suspect of genuine praise. Some don’t feel they deserve it. Others believe you must want something. Others still see it as manipulation, that by accepting the compliment they will be indebted to you or owe you something in the karmic grand scheme of things.

That’s not what edification is about.

It takes virtually no effort to make someone else feel better.

I’ve done this with family, friends, even complete strangers. It’s become a part of my very character. I’ve even had dubious people question whether I’m sincere as “nobody can be this good”.

There is nothing wrong with being the good guy. It just takes more effort.

So who owns the responsibility? Is the person giving the praise responsible for how the receiving party takes it, or doesn’t take it? Do they continue to get through to the person until the audience accepts? Does that take away from the principle of edification?

Should the receiver get over themselves and just take the compliment, regardless of their own insecurities and negative patterns, or does that violate the portion about small talk and other meaningless social conventions?

It’s an interesting topic of discussion for me. I believe in edification. Personally, I don’t persist. I put it out there and let the universe take care of it. Whether someone accepts it or not isn’t my responsibility. I know they will think about it at the very least, and perhaps, just perhaps, I will have positively influenced someone’s life in even the most minute way.

I can live with that.

What about you? How are you with people? Are you edifying? Are you quick to compliment for no other reason than simply because? Or have you become so jaded and cynical that you refuse to give or receive compliments, that you only talk in small talk or don’t bother at all because you’re disgusted with meaningless social conventions as well?

Please share your thoughts in the comments below.

Back along after playing this amazing game called Eve Online I decided to start a blog, I just wanted to write about Eve Online whatever came to mind while I was playing. I loved the game and still do, the vibrant and helpful community are what keep me here the friends I made in the past years are what make me log in.

But there’s a certain person I’d like to give a personal thanks too. Mr Roc Wieler this gent was the reason I started writing an inspiration you could say, while I’d never be as good as him he inspired me to be as good as I can be. He’s written a lot over the years my two favourite blog updates are his rules ( I actually put the good ones on the whiteboard at work, makes me chuckle ) and also about his personal development in Eve and out of Eve. It’s good to see someone achieve so much and even over the past few years the determination for self improvement is still there and burning strong. His name is a apt one because this man is a Rock. And he’ll still be there when everyone else has burnt out.

A special thank you goes to you sir, you opened up a path in eve that I’ve enjoyed many times over. As I’ve said before and I’ll say again.

Roc is always relevant. Ask the ladies

Rand o/

Bet you thought this entry was going to be about me, about how I inspire others to achieve their personal best, motivating them to overcome whatever hurdles face their lives, to rise above.

Wrong.

This post is about you, Rand, and others like us. Every day people that understand adversity, that understand what it is like to face our challenges head on, to push back against them, no matter how insurmountable they may seem, and to share in any victories we win along the way, to motivate ourselves further to grow.

It’s not about vanity. It’s not about attention seeking or glory. It’s about setting an example. It’s about self-discipline. It’s about understanding the human spirit, our weaknesses, about standing up and being accountable and saying “I will do this, and I want you to keep me on the path I have set out before me.”

Do you think it’s easy getting up at 5:30 AM every morning to go to the gym? Do you think I want to? Do you not think I would rather be laying in bed, the most beautiful woman in the universe beside me? Do you think denying myself indulgent foods at work related festivities or friend/family gatherings is something I enjoy doing? Do you think I enjoy dropping a 245 lb barbell on my chest from complete muscle exhaustion, not once, but two sets in a row? Do you think I enjoy being told I’m crazy, overdoing it, that I don’t need to impress anyone, that I don’t have to be so self-critical, so self-demanding?

It’s easy to be lazy. Look at where it got us. Atrophy is easy. Do nothing.

Improving our lives, growing into the people we envision ourselves to be, dream of ourselves being, that is what takes effort. Breaking the mold, pushing beyond what we believe we can achieve, standing tall with earned confidence knowing where we have come from, and where we still have to go.

You inspire me. You keep me accountable. You keep me on the path I have chosen. Could I do it alone? Of course I could. At the end of the day, when I am left within my own mind it is me I have to deal with. Knowing I have your support, all of you, just makes it that much easier.

Don’t think these are mere empty, self-help rhetoric. They are words of truth, of freedom. There are times when I don’t think I can possibly move forward another inch, I think about this blog, and my readers. I think about the comments some have made, good and bad, and I transform those into strength. I harness those energies into performing a little bit more, to achieving a little bit more.

I will never be satisfied. I am greedy. I want more. I want it all.

Why would I settle for anything less? Do I not deserve the very best? Of course I do.

Here’s the kicker, the reason why I am so entitled to these things.

I am you. No different. No better. I deserve it all. You do too.

Nobody will hand it to us. Seize it. Take it. Make it yours.

I’m suddenly motivated again. Thank you.

The Ego Takes Over

Meh, I probably shouldn’t even bother with this post, as it will only garner more attention for the original poster, but I figure, why the hell not?

I’m not going to go into how EVE Online is a game that promotes Egocentricity.

I’m not going to go into how judging someone else’s efforts is completely arrogant, vain, and condescending.

What I will focus on is this: EVE is Real.

Sure, it’s a marketing phrase thrown at us by CCP Games, but in my case, and hopefully in many others, it’s true.

What started as a reality escape within the science fiction universe of New Eden became much, much more. As much as I have influenced Roc Wieler, my main character in EVE Online, he has influenced me. I’ve talked about this before; about how Roc has taken on a life of his own, and how while he is still very much an extension of my fantastical self, he has become his own somewhat independent entity. To me, that is what good roleplay, a good community, and the open sandbox nurtures.

At the same time, I have grown in my real life because of Roc. It’s almost a symbiotic relationship. Call it what you will – I’m sure many therapists would agree with anything you say. I use Roc as my motivation to do better in life; to stand up for myself verbally, social, to stand tall physically, to push myself harder, to strive to live up to the excellence that I believe is inherent with being among the elite pilots of New Eden, the Capsuleers. To excel in everything I touch. That is who Roc Wieler is to me.

Bottom line is this – this is my blog. I write it for one person. Me.

Roc evolves. I write about it. I evolve. I write about it. I have some readers still here from day one. I have some that have left. I have others that have joined only recently. Such is life. I have some that come for the Eve Online aspect, others that enjoy the recipes, others that enjoy Roc’s Rules, others that simply enjoy my offerings to the Eve Online community in a metagaming capacity – namely music and art. Some even get a kick out of my rants, such as this one.

I do what appeals to me.

Should I still be in the EVE Blog Pack? Honestly, that’s never been my call. If I am removed, I am pretty confident my blog won’t be affected. If I remain, I’m pretty sure my blog won’t be affected. I respect the Blog Pack, and have always been proud to be a part of it. Does it mean my blog is better than anyone else’s? To claim such would be an act of ego. To even say one blog is better than another as definitive fact is ego. There are many good writers in the blogosphere. There are many crappy writers. All are welcome in my books.

I do what I do because I want to do what I do.

You can like it. You can hate it. You can even comment ignorantly on it, not knowing the man, revealing yourself to be full of envy and fail. One thing you can’t do is stop it.

Roc is always relevant.

PHASE I LEARNINGS

• Fasting sucks, but it works – The first few days of this altered state of nutrition was debilitating. I was angry, aggressive, constantly hungry, moody, tired, dizzy, nauseous, everything you could imagine. My system was all WTF? as I willed myself through disciplining it. It took about a week to get things in order. Once I did, I was amazed at how good I felt, how much energy I’ve had, and how quickly I’ve been noticing the difference in myself.
• Consistency breeds motivation – At first, my family, friends, coworkers all doubted that I would be able to stick with this strict nutritional regime. There were snickers of “Give him 30 days”, and “I bet $50 he doesn’t last a week”, but here I am, slightly over 30 days in, and I’m proud to say I haven’t strayed in any way. I haven’t missed a single meal time, a single meal component, gone over or under a single calorie. I’ve been tenacious, driven, simply refusing to not do what I set out to do with this. Now everyone within my sphere of influence encourages me, supports me, considers my feeding schedule and habits in their plans, and can’t wait to see what I accomplish next.
• Morning workouts rock – It sucks getting up at 5 AM to go workout. Believe me, I know. Yet I don’t think I could do it any other way. My career doesn’t always allow for me to work 9 – 5, and usually when I get home I’m so tired or distracted I really don’t feel like going to the gym. Get it done in the morning, get it out of the way. That’s been my attitude, and it’s worked. I’ve also found I have increased energy throughout the day, my emotions more stabilized. I’m burning fat all day long, enjoying every moment of it, instead of laying awake at night because I just raised my energy levels. Yeah, morning workouts rock.
• Sleep is paramount – I’ve been getting 7 – 9 hours of sleep every single night. I go to bed at the same time consistently; I wake up at the same time consistently. This is one of those things where your body craves routine. Do not neglect your sleep.
• OMGWTFBBQ water – for my current bodyweight I’ve been drinking just over 4 liters of water per day (1 gallon). I honestly felt like I was drowning at the beginning, but it’s been a good lesson. Did you know your brain will send you the same signal for hunger as thirst? That is partly why so many of us overeat? Unless you externally hear your stomach rumbling, you’re not hungry. Next time you feel hungry, go drink as much water as you possibly can. You’ll be surprised how quickly your “hunger” goes away. Amazing how we’ve trained our brains incorrectly.
• $$$ – I’ve been eating more, eating better foods, using more supplements, yet saving money. Go figure. I’ve only eaten out once as its incredibly difficult to eat healthy in most restaurants. I debated going to a sushi buffet at one point, but a buffet is just a waste for me now as I don’t eat a whole lot in one sitting.
• Programs work – I’m glad I took the time with this. I’m glad every workout is different. My body never knows what is going to hit it next. It’s always sore in that good way, and always in weird places I didn’t realize I was neglecting. Don’t get stuck in a rut.  In fact, I’ve been so motivated by this that I’ve been working on converting this into a program available to any of you. Just doing some design and layout work and “The Brutor Guide to Empyrean Health” will be born, Men’s and Womens’ Editions.

DAY 150 RESULTS

• down 9 lbs
• down 2% body fat
• up 4% muscle mass

Roc's Got Back

Overall, it was a sucky experience, then an awesome one. I walk with more confidence (like the universe needs that), feeling a great sense of accomplishment. People close to me comment on how much my body is changing day by day. My lovely wife can’t keep her hands off of me, which is motivation enough to do this forever!

It requires a LOT of discipline to change our lives. Accept no excuses from yourself. There is no alternative. The cost of failure is too high. Nobody else can motivate you or do this for you. Ignore naysayers. Do what you need to do for yourself, no matter what it takes. Here’s an example.

I’ve been doing fitness for a while now, so some people say it’s easy for me, that if I had to try changing or forming a habit that I sucked at, I would see just how impossible it can be. Challenge accepted.

I suck at flossing my teeth. My dentist is always giving me crap about it. I have great teeth – never had a cavity, never needed dental work (except braces), and if I would only floss, my teeth would be so much better for it!

Thankfully, I went to the dentist about two days before Fanfest, just after accepting the challenge to turn a bad habit into a good one.

I have flossed every single morning without fail since then. That’s over 40 days of continuous flossing. It is now a good habit.

How did I do it? Willpower.

I was honest with myself and figured out my motivation. I told myself ‘If you do not floss today, your teeth will fall out.’ I didn’t want that. The thought of it terrified me. I made that a reality within my mind. I put floss out with my other morning routine items, so it wasn’t ‘out of sight, out of mind’. Whatever it was that made it work, it’s stuck. My gums are healthy, strong, not bleeding, and my teeth are barely staining from regular wear and tear.

I changed a bad habit into a good one. No more excuses from you.