Burning the Fat

I’ve seen all types at the gym: the knuckle dragging neanderthals with bad form lifting heavy weights, making sure to slam them hard on the floor so people notice what idiots they are in every way; the tarts that do their hair, wearing makeup and tight little gym clothes so that the gorillas will notice them; the half-assed “I’m at the gym” fatties, eating their donuts while on the treadmill. Yeah, I’ve seen it all at the gym.

Me? I don’t really care what others think of me when I workout. I’m there for one purpose, one mission, and nothing else exists except my routine. I grunt. I sweat. I scream occasionally. I’ve even cried and puked. Don’t like it, don’t watch me. I’m there to push myself beyond my limitations, to sculpt my physique into what I want it to be.

I know it’s a very long process. I know it will take longer than a few weeks, or even months. It’s a consistent lifestyle; something that involves patience and willpower. It’s my zen, so to speak.

Today, I decided to try something different; a no weights workout for strength and fat burning. I always enjoy trying new workouts, keeps the muscles guessing.

Here’s the workout. I seriously encourage you to try it.

Circuit 1: (no rest inbetween exercises)

  • 10 bulgarian split squat (that’s 10 per leg)
  • 12 pushups
  • 12 hip raises
  • 12 pushups
  • 12 hip raises
  • 30 second side plank (30 seconds per side)
  • 10 floor y raise (video shows on a ball. Do on floor instead)
  • 10 floor t raise (video shows not on floor. Do on floor, palms facing forward)
  • 10 floor i raise (video shows hot chicks because I couldn’t help myself. Same as t raise, except directly over your head, palms facing inwards)
  • 30 second side plank (30 seconds per side)
  • 10 floor y raise
  • 10 floor t raise
  • 10 floor i raise

That’s ONE circuit. Do three circuits, with 1 minute rest between circuits.

[OOC] The New Blog Pack

First of all, I want to let my readers know two things:

  1. This is not an official Capsuleer posting. It is my own personal opinion.
  2. I have nothing but respect for what CrazyKinux has done for the EVE community, even if he doesn’t really blog that much anymore himself, aside from linking to everything else everyone else does.

Seriously, CK was the man motivated enough to organize the efforts of all us EVE bloggers, promoting the crap out of our work, consistently pushing us forward to ensure EVE players had the best blogs available to them at any time.

Others have tried this before, and since, but for whatever reasons have failed where CK has not. So kudos on that.

Having said that, and let me make it clear that I am not intentionally dissing CK, and that I am not speaking on behalf of the Capsuleer dev team, I can continue.

Ok, have I covered my ass enough?

The voting for the new blog pack is nothing short of a popularity contest. There. I said it.

Does it ensure that the best blogs make it to the Blog Pack, and therefore make it into Capsuleer? Nope. It just means people who are even aware of CK’s post get a chance to promote themselves and their friends.

Make no mistake, I voted, and I’m proud to be on the blog pack. Still, doesn’t mean we’ll get the best of the best.

There are many blogs I read in Capsuleer that probably won’t make the cut. That makes me sad personally because obviously I enjoy them.

There are also EVE related blogs I read not in Capsuleer or the Blog Pack that I would like to see in both.

I truly am rambling today.

I’m just a little miffed at the process, and the possible affect it will have on bloggers as well as an application I am very proud to be a part of.

If it were up to me, and it just might be half up to me as far as Capsuleer is concerned, I would simply add the new blogs to the existing Headlines list in Capsuleer, as I know I can’t be the only one who feels this way.

I wouldn’t want to lose a single Capsuleer user due to one of their favourite blogs being removed.

Anyway, CK, if you read this, know that I do appreciate you, but hope  you understand my comments. If were a community with a million bloggers, I would understand the need for the “blogfather” to trim the fat. But we’re not, and if anything, I think the Blog Pack should grow, or at least consider removing blogs that don’t post original content at all.

Dear readers, if any of you feel the same way, please comment. Comment here in this post. Comment on CK’s post. Comment at the Capsuleer forums. Make yourself heard.

What good are differing opinions if we can’t discuss them as mature adults?

Prayers in New Eden

Overheard from Capsuleer comm chatter across the universe:

Gallente Prayer

Our Drones, whom art in thy bay, hammerhead be thy name.
Thy pew pew to come, podding will be done, in 0.0 as it is in Groothese.
Give us this day our daily gank
And forgive us our smack, as we forgive those who smack against us.
And lead us not into Jita, but deliver us Tech II bpo’s
For Eve is thy kingdom, thy powergrid and thy CPU are key. for ever and ever. PEW PEW

Caldari Prayer

Our missles, whom art in launchers, hallowed be thy payload.
Thy warhead come, our enemies be done
In low sec as it is in Empire.
Give us this day our daily gank
And forgive us our WCS’s, but we won’t forgive those that use them against us.
And lead us not into bubbles, but deliver us from scramblers
For thine is the thermal, the explosive, the kinetic and the EM

Amen

Amarr Prayer

Hail Tachyon, Beam Laser, our Frequency Crystal with thee.
Blessed are thou amongst weapons, and blessed is the bounty of thy labour, gankage.
Holy Tachyon, Tech One or Two, pray for our killmails, now, and at the hour of the Blob.

Amen

Minmatar Prayer

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE make this piece of shit engine work!

Safely Returned

“You cause me a lot of grief, Wieler. You know that?” *Piktun said. “And you’re going to pay for every minute I was indisposed because of my association with you.”

“Hey, I told you to keep our business dealings quiet and anonymous. Not my fault you got sloppy.” I replied, half in jest.

I was thankful just to be back in communication with her, knowing she was safe.

“Tell me one more time what happened.” I asked, fully aware we were on vid and she could see my smirk.

“You know damned well what went down.” She scowled at me on the monitor.

“Indulge me.” I said, employing my infamous boyish charm.

Her eyes narrowed, her brow furrowed. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, shaking her head slightly at herself, suppressing whatever she was about to throw my way. She looked at me again, shook her head once more, then replied.

“Fine. You win.”

“Special Agent Dex Nera, ma’am. I’m going to need you to immediately cease your activities and allow me to escort you to our security office for some questioning.” the Concord officer said with practiced formality.

Piktun noticed his gun hand was tense, already near his weapon. She knew the standard procedures, and realized officer Nera was probably accustomed to his suspects making an attempt to bolt and flee at this point in the conversation. She had nothing to hide, and no intention of running.

She powered down her multiple monitor setup, her primary tool for the profitable business of trading on the markets, swivelled on her chair to face officer Nera, and spoke.

“Do you have your warrant in order, officer?” she asked, inflecting slight annoyance and command into her voice.

“Yes ma’am. If you could please place your hands on your lap, where I can see them, I’d be happy to produce the documentation.”

Piktun complied, slowly placing her hands on her lap as officer Nera reached into one of his breast pockets, producing a small datapad, and thumbed it on.

A small hologram came to life and played a recording. “By order of Republic Internal Security, an apprehension warrant has been issued for the detainment and questioning of Piktun, in relation to her association with Matar Colonel Roc Wieler, under section 2, subsection 14, paragraph B of the Republic Code of Law.”

“I see. Very well then.” She stood, allowing herself to be cuffed by officer Nera, watching as a sweep team came rushing into her office and began disassembling her equipment. She filled with violated fury.

“I’ll have you know, officer” she stressed the word with authority, “that if any of my equipment or data is damaged, corrupted, comprimised, professionally shared or lost, you will be hearing from my legal team. I understand your need in this situation, but I will not tolerate any violation of my rights as a private citizen of the Republic. Have I made myself clear?” she spat.

“Understood, ma’am.” officer Nera nodded towards his team, slowing them to a more reasonable level. The equipment wasn’t going to up and walk away from them; no sense in rushing through the job making careless mistakes that would cost them all later.

Discreetly, she was escorted to the nearest station for processing. It wasn’t anything she was unfamiliar with, nor were the passersby, barely acknowledging the incident in passing.

Once the paperwork was filled out, and she was left in a detention cell, she didn’t have to wait long for someone of importance to come her way.

Sergeant Murdoch spent the next ten minutes pacing around the cell, staring her down as she sipped quietly on some herbal tea that was provided for her comfort. He was an ape of a man, a fellow Caldari as was Piktun, but one that obviously had worked among the Brutor for quite some time and compensated for his lack of physical stature by adapting his presence to mimic theirs.

Finally, the man ape spoke. “I know that Roc Wieler is guilty of treason and slavery. I don’t care what the media says. I don’t care what the senate says; he’s guilty and we both know it.”

Just like that, Piktun knew she had won. She sipped her tea slowly, never taking her eyes from Murdoch, allowing his frustration to rise.

It was clear he had reached the pinnacle of his career years before, and wasn’t going to advance no matter how many years of service he put in. He was grasping at straws regarding Wieler, hoping to ride the media bandwagon to fame and fortune. The critical flaw in his plan was that Wieler had been acquitted by the highest court of law in the Republic, and Piktun was not some pushover, unaware of her rights, or without her wits.

She sipped her tea again. It was delicious, and very soothing as it went down.

Murdoch looked like he was going to pop a vein. His face was turning more crimson by the second. She simply waited.

Within seconds, he couldn’t contain himself any longer, slamming his meaty hands down on the table in front of her.

“You will tell me what the two of you are involved in! I know you’re up to no good, and you’re both going to be put in stasis for a very long time once I get to the bottom of it!”

Piktun sipped her tea once more, placing the cup gently on the table, looking up with delicate, sincere eyes, directly at Murdoch.

“Listen to me, buffoon. Your warrant was obviously bogus, which is enough to get you fired without pension on its own. Beyond that, you have no evidence whatsoever to support your claims, and you’re trying to re-open a case already tried by Tribunal Law, which is illegal. Your techs will not be able to decrypt my data protocols, which were activated the second your sweep team began disassembling my equipment, and it won’t matter anyway, as the data will wipe itself in the next 15 minutes, regardless of where you duplicate it to.

You’ve inconvenienced me for your pathetic and failed career advancement agenda. You’ve delayed my income for the day, which is more than you will make in ten lifetimes.

You’ve publicly humiliated me to potential clients by bringing me here in broad daylight; for that alone I should sue you for loss of income and defamation of character. But to top it all off, you smell like sewer shit.”

A vein in his neck joined the chorus of veins in his forehead. His temple lobes pulsed violently. His eyes were filling with blood and tears, threatening to burst from their sockets. His hands scratched against the table upon which he still leaned.

“My attorney should be here shortly. I would advise you arrange for my release before she arrives. I assure you that every minute this is prolonged will be very unfortunate for you, Sergeant Murdoch.”

She allowed herself a faint smile then, picked up her tea, and drank in another mouthful. It really was quite delicious, and she savoured each mouthful.

Sergeant Murdoch slammed his fists against the table, storming out of the detention cell. In the distance, he could be heard yelling “Get that fucking bitch out of my goddamned station!”, and within minutes official apologies were documented, and an escort offered, which was declined.

Piktun took the local transit to return to her offices. By the time she arrived, her equipment had already been returned and reassembled, exactly as she had left it.

She sat down, spinning in her chair, before having her AI run a full diagnostic on her gear. Within seconds, it found several bugging devices, both hardware and software, and systematically removed each.

Twelve intrusions and half an hour later, she was confident her equipment was secure, and got back to work.

I slapped my knee, laughing wholeheartedly. There was a reason I respected this woman. “So, you managed to get the booster shipment out without issue?”

“Don’t even kid, Wieler.” Piktun replied, resulting in me laughing even more.

“Alright, alright.” I waved my hands instinctively in a calming gesture at the vidscreen. “I’m glad you’re back. Did we miss any windows of opportunity?”

“Our assets are in order, and continuing to profit as always. Is there anything else, Wieler, or can I get back to work?” Piktun asked sternly, still not enjoying the amusement I was.

“Nah, I’m good. Stay in touch ok?” I said.

“Will do. Piktun out.”

Ah, it was a good life some days.

*Editor’s Note: Name changed to protect the innocent

Rocalicious February

Bit late in coming, I know.

February is traditionally the month of love. What is love really? Chemical reactions? Hormones? Want of something you are told you cannot have, only to become bored with it once you’ve consumed it?

I decided in being honest with ourselves, I would declare February the month of lust, the real pursuit of love (for men at least), and create an image accordingly.

FULL REZ VERSION

[OOC]Facebook Group

Apparently my blog entry on post Dominion Firetail fittings was linked to the Facebook Eve Online group. That day my little blog generated 16000+ visits, which is astounding to me.

Also to take into consideration for the EVE Blog Pack members is that Capsuleer currently provides no mechanism for tracking hits to your blog. With over 36,0000 Capsuleer users, I’m confident we’re all seeing higher numbers, as we’re constantly receiving compliments on the Blog Pack over at our CAPSULEER FORUMS.

So whoever linked me, thanks. Do it again. As often as possible.

Lament

I haven’t slept in so many days I have lost track of counting. Counting on my fingers, my toes, too many numbers, not enough toes. My toes need a manicure; I haven’t pampered myself in so long. I cringe at the thought of a young Brutor slave boy massaging my feet, compelling him to massage further, to touch me. Don’t touch me! I recoil at the thought of myself being touched, touching others. There are so many others to touch; so many others being touched, being affected.

I am affected deeply. Deeply touched.

So deep are my concerns that I have to act; act like nothing is wrong; act on the guilt that overwhelms me, threatening to destroy my soul. It is overwhelming. My soul needs rest. No rest for the wicked.

We are all wicked. Wicked actions, actions justified as righteous, righteousness defines our culture; culture defines our wickedness.

We are holy. We are Amarr.

Amarr enforcing our views of God on others. God never enforced his views on us. God is dead. Death would be welcome save for having to face dead God and explain myself.

Where did we go wrong? Wrong is an understatement that makes me laugh nervously. Nervously, I conceal my laughter lest anyone else should see. I see it all now. I see the infinitely headed snake that has become our people. Our people are afraid and ignorant. Our people are powerful. Afraid of losing power is what drives the Empress. The Empress is the figurehead of the snake of the power of the fearful of dead God.

I’m still thinking of the young Brutor slave boy. Boy I’m tired. Tired of not doing what I know is right, what is truly righteous; only then will I know my soul’s freedom. Freedom for Matari is the only way. Way too costly to myself to be exposed.

I will expose it all. All need to be humbled. Humility is in my possession. Am I possessed? Obsessed? Obsession explains faith in dead God. Obsession with power over others brings blissful blindness to powerless of self. I’m so lost. I’m profound.

I’ve found the way to true enlightenment. Enlightenment brings peace to me to the Amarr to the galaxy. The galaxy needs peace. Too many wars fought over power. Absolute power corrupts. Power corrupts absolutely. Absolutely we’re a corrupted power. Power of God compels you! Compelling and powerful arguments to justify doing nothing.

Nothing will change. Change will bring me nothingness.

I am alone in the nothingness. Alone to do what must be done. Undone.

My nerves are undone and shot. I will be shot; executed. My plan will be executed. It cannot be stopped.

Stop!

Who do I hear? I hear the Empress has gone insane. I am insane for standing against our traditions, our cultural beliefs. Beliefs define a people. People define a belief. Oxymoron.

I’ve been called a moron, never an oxy, but I know the truth. Truth is perception. My eyes disagree. I disagree with dead God and our tradition of cultural slavery.

Why can’t I stop thinking of the Brutor slave boy? I miss his gentle caress, the way he holds me.

Hold myself together until the end. The end is nigh; repent and your soul will be saved!

I’ve saved myself for my holy mission; my divine task. I am a weapon for the future.

The imminent future has a bullet waiting for me. I wait for me. I don’t remember what I am waiting for.

For fear has left me incapacitated. I incapacitated the guards standing watch outside the Imperial Crusade’s central network AI core. Core beliefs hold the Empire together, the Empress says. She says she is God’s voice. Voices are all I hear anymore. Any more and I will lose my mind. I don’t mind being the one dead God chose for this. This is what needs to be done. To be undone. Am I undone? Have I been detected? Did the alarm sound?

I sound alarmed. I detect it in my own breathing. I need to keep breathing. Is that second guard breathing? His skull is bleeding.

Our people bleed. So much blood on our hands that cannot be washed, on our conscience. Science we introduced to the rest of New Eden. They thanked us. We thanked them. Them the Matari were thanked with enslavement. We are enslaved to our own narrow views.

I view the AI core and move forward. Forward thinking, forward planning; I will do what dead God that is not the Empress has called me to do.

Do you know? Knowing and not doing is worse than never having known. But I know.

I know I am losing my grip on reality. Reality is perception. Is reality truth then?

Then my hands are quickly sweeping over the keyboards, entering highest level commands. Command will find out. I will be outed as a homosexual, I will be outed from the Order. Order keeps Chaos in check. I check the AI core and run more routines.

Routines make us complacent. Routines bring comfort. A massage would be comforting.

Comforting to know I am finally doing what is right, what is left to be done. Is that right? I’ve left the room. Do I turn right or left? I am confused.

Confused as to what my future will bring. Bring death to a limited and timed future I’m sure.

I’m sure I’ve done what was needed. Needs and wants are always different.

A different point of view.

View my sins. I am exposed.

The Empress is surrounded by her guards. She smiles. I smile. Am I happy or disgusted? Disgusted by what we’ve become as a people? People disgust me. I disgust myself.

I restrain myself. The guards restrain me also.

Also I know my life is forfeit now.

Now forfeit is the Amarr Empire. Dead to me.

I am dead soon. That will be a nice change.

Change is nice. Nice to be making change.

I have changed my ways, my views.

My last view is the Empress barking orders to her dogs. I’ll miss my slaver hound. I’ve hounded the Empire for the last time.

My time is up.

I look up past the Empress God to dead God beyond.

Hello.

A hero addresses the world

Can you hear me?

In times like these we have to ask ourselves several important questions. How can you, I, our friends and children really trust that what we see on TV and hear on the radio is true? How do we know that our opinions are really our own? How can we be sure that the weak voices are heard and not scared into silence?

I can tell you how.

There is one person we can thank for all of this. We can thank this person for giving us new perspectives. We can thank this person for giving us a choice…

VIEW THE VIDEO NOW

Missing Persons Report

It had been several days since last I had spoken with my financial advisor. After the fiasco that had occured only months before, where I was inadvertently involved with the Matari slave trade, subsequently charged, tried, and eventually found innocent, I had learned to be very cautious with whom I did business.

Everyone was out for themselves in New Eden, and manipulating my good name there had been those that had profited under false pretense.

My latest business relationship was trusted. She had proven herself dependable, credible, and above board. She had submitted herself to full military scrutiny, willingly sharing her entire employment history, personal referrals, and even investing a great quantity of her own isk in our joint venture.

Things had been going quite smoothly. She knew the market well. She had high sec POS research and manufacturing operations well under control.

Then she simply dropped off the grid.

I’d been trying to contact her for days. I’d even petitioned Concord for assistance in locating her, as this was quite uncommon behaviour. After several days, there had still been no response.

I worried for her safety. I worried for my investment.

Close colleagues had varied responses, “Maybe she went on vacation.”, “Maybe she took the isk and ran.”, “Maybe she’s been captured and being tortured for information that can be used against you again.”, “Maybe you’re just being paranoid.”

Whatever the reason, I wished for positive and peaceful resolution. I wished for her quick and safe return.

End of Tyranny

DAL I – TRIBAL LIBERATION FORCE LOGISTIC SUPPORT
HEIMATAR REGION

“The end of Amarr Tyranny has begun! The consistent efforts of our guerilla warfare small squad activities has reduced the morale of our enemy! They flee at the very sight of us!”

*applause*

“The time for large fleet battles has ended. This has never been a war of attrition; never been an effort of wastefully spending lives. This is a war of survival, and survive we have! We have liberated dozens of systems, billions of lives, and we have only just begun!

Now is the time to redouble our push forward into enemy territory! Now is the time to stand proud as Matari and let loose our cry for freedom! Now is the time to seize opportunity and send a message to the Amarr that will leave the entire galaxy trembling!”

*applause*

“We are the Republic! There is no room for compromise in our lives. There is no room for piracy. Let it be known that we hold ourselves to a higher standard, a higher calling; and we will not accept convenient morality. We will not accept wavering conscience. We stand for what is right. We stand for what is just. We stand, and we shall not fall!”

*applause and standing ovation*

24 HOURS LATER
V2-VC2 – V2 FREEDOMS FORGE
CATCH REGION

“The end of Amarr Tyranny has begun! The consistent efforts of our fleets have smashed the resistance in D-GTMI, reducing their forces to rubble. CVA will surely not recover. Their morale has been pulverized! Their allies flee at the very sight of us!”

*applause*

“The time for large fleet battles has ended. This has never been about attrition, wastefully spending lives and isk. This is a war of dominance, and dominate we have! We have secured our holdings in this region, even the GoonSwarm collapses before our might, and we have only just begun!”

*applause*

“We are Ushra’Khan! We are the Republic! There is no room for compromise in our lives. There is no room for piracy. Let it be known that we hold ourselves to a higher standard, a higher calling; and we will not accept convenient morality from our ‘leaders’ in Empire space. We will not accept wavering conscience. We stand for what is right. We stand for what is just. Brothers and sisters, we stand; and we shall not fall!”

*applause and standing ovatoin*

24 HOURS LATER
XX9-WV – UNDISCLOSED POS
CURSE REGION

“The end of piracy has begun! The consistent efforts of our guerilla warfare small squad activities has reduced the morale of our enemy! They flee at the very sight of us!”

*applause*

“The time for large fleet battles has ended. As we push deeper into wormhole space, into Sleeper territories, we cannot afford attrition, the wasteful spending of valuable lives! Nullsec is a war of survival, and survive we have! We have raided the Sleepers, we have struck mighty blows against the Angel Cartel, and we have only just begun!

Now is the time to redouble our push forward into the homes of our enemies! Now is the time to stand in their own backyards and let loose our cry of challenge! Now is the time to seize opportunity and send a message to the Angel Cartel and the Sleepers that will leave them trembling!”

*applause*

“We are the first line of defence against these threats to the Republic! There is no room for compromise in our lives. There is no room for the Angel Cartel or their allies. Let it be known that we hold ourselves to a higher standard, a higher calling; and we will not accept convenient morality from those that would dictate our lives from Empire space. We will not accept wavering conscience, and back room politics. We stand for what we believe is right. We stand for what is just. We stand, and we shall not fall!”

*applause and standing ovation*

24 HOURS LATER
RENS VII – MOON 20 – SISTERS OF EVE BUREAU
HEIMATAR REGION

Roc Wieler tunes his guitar.

In the waiting audience of the sold-out concert, Mynxee smiles, thinking of the punchline to the joke only she knows.