I just had my first shake-down by a Balinese police officer.

I was on my way back from dropping a friend off when they hailed me down at an intersection.

The crime…

Not wearing a helmet.

The officer read me my rights quickly in the best English available, and I gotta say I was slightly nervous.

I don’t normally get nervous around police in the USA anymore; but this is a foreign country with not a whole lot of rules.

The type of place where you can get your morning coffee at your hotel and walk to next to catch an old fashioned cock fight, and the roosters aren’t wearing Sock-Em-Boppers.

Their legs are fashioned with razor sharp blades that they use to slash at their opponent until death.

If this was the US, this kind of entertainment would cause a fury so magnificent it would be national news.

Anywhere I travel is full of the same “bleeding hearts” that would riot over that kind of shit…

But here they don’t have much to say about it.

That’s right, bitch.

Not your culture, not your problem right?

Shut the fuck up, grab your popcorn and get your crash course in the undeniable brutal realities of human nature, something that so many spend so much time avoiding.

I digress (but not much).

Point is…

Anything is possible here, and I’ve heard encounters with cops can sometimes escalate in a bad way.

About a month ago I was coming back from hanging with some friends in Ubud when I passed a temple that looked dope, so I pulled into a small opening in a gate to double back and scope things out.

When I got in, I realized it was some government facility and a fucking soldier ran out of a bush behind me with a rifle in his hands.

It reminded me of the game Goldeneye, when you walk into a building and they know you’re there so they run to their positions and start blasting.

I thought I was fucked, so I turned towards him and mashed the gas; after all, there was only one way out.

He didn’t aim at me, but I could tell he was pissed and as I drove by him he slapped the back of my head.

I’ll take it.

So you can understand my nervousness at this new encounter over my helmet.

He read me some laminated rules and of course, I saw a price column.

Okay, now we are talking.

My nervousness subsided slightly.

There’s a song and dance that is traditional before you hand over the money, which is what I was waiting for.

Finally, he let me know that instead of going to court over it and paying about $100+ for no drivers license and no helmet, it could all be settled today for the small price of…

What I had in my pocket.

Well, foot… I actually had about 900,000 rupiah ($60-$70), which he took and was even gracious enough to let me keep a couple hundred.

How nice.

So all in all it cost me about $40 for the little muck-up.

Not a bad deal, if you ask me…

Except for the fact that the bastard got me ring.

That’s right, I wear two biker rings at all times.

One is a skull with an American flag bandana… Real rebel shit.

The other is my 1%’er ring, just because I like it.

Both are just some real rebel fuck the system style rings, which I enjoy.

Plus they look cool.

So there you go… You know there always those people who ask “What do those rings mean? Are you in a biker gang?”

No, the ring means “Fuck you and your line of questioning”.

The officer had got me though; as I was walking off he said “I’m going to need that ring as well.”

I’m not the type to argue with officers these days, I just get the shit done.

I did ask him if it was going to fit his fat ass fingers, to which he said “yes yes of course”.

Okay then…

As I walked to my bike I he called to me again.

I looked over my shoulder and he had it wedged on his pinky finger “See bro… it fits!”

They’d finally got me for the goods.

I was happy with the outcome though.

A good story for the blog and a new quest: To aquire a new biker ring to replace it.

I’d purchased it on Amazon, and there’s none of that fuddy duddery around here.

There are no biker rings, as the two I’d had were highly commented on by most of the local I’d met.

I’ll keep you updated on the quest, for now let me tell you why I say all this shit.

The underlying message in this whole thing; the parable that lay within.

The little pearl; the nugget of truth.

I have nothing too profound for you except that I’m enjoying every minute of it.

I love this shit.

I’ve found something that something that works; something with all of the elements of danger I’ve always felt like I was lacking.

Gyms, studios, tourist attractions…

These are fucking morgues.

Commercial ways to relieve just a tiny amount of pressure that comes from being plugged into a system.

Here, on the mopeds where people are crashing into each other every day, I am able to live off of adrenaline.

Where the smog from tailpipes is pushed into my nostrils directly to the brain, I exist in the danger zone.

In the ocean, I prime myself for the next move; which will be to Uluwatu where I can get on some bigger waves with more shallow reef bottoms.

I accept Poseidons challenge just like I accept all dangerous challenges in life.

To experience the chaos of love again with full awareness of the power it has to cripple the mind…

To allow the dance of chemicals in the brain that unlocks a form of insanity; both the ultimate reward and biggest destroyer of man.

I’m willing to do battle with any beast, after all I do believe this to be my game even though the odds are that it is yours.

And yet, if I didn’t believe this was my game, would you?

I’m currently in my program Downloads with clients fasting for 48 hours and clearing out my body.

Even on Thanksgiving Day; it’s going down.

(fuck thanksgiving, but happy thanksgiving to you and yours 

With the tradition (as is tradition every day) I will give you my gift of value…

Figure out what systems you are plugged into, and test them thoroughly.

See what the limits are on something you dread about your life; and push those fucking buttons.

Blow on the house of cards until it tips over, and you see how flimsy your ideas were.

Maybe it will fall over, maybe it won’t, either way you will see something happen.

Push until something pushes back; that is a law in the universe.

Even if you don’t want to hear the answer, even if you already know the answer, push.

Truth will bubble up to the surface in some way; something you can grab ahold of and catch a visual.

Something about yourself will be revealed; something you have been burying will rise out of the soil like a resurrected cadaver.

You were born with the two minds; societies version of you and the imaginary friend.

The better self that lay dormant; awaiting freedom to create the movement you were born to lead.

The one without fear and without limits, destined to flip the world upside down and soak up every second of pure excitement.

That’s what it’s about, isn’t it?

The freedom to be on the edge, the freedom to be alive and as a kid again.

The better self is a kid; YOU are a kid. The teenager that pushes back and is not afraid to create without limits.

Notice how the experiences that you had back then, the first tastes of things are the measuring stick for everything else in life.

Before the jaded bullshit; the doubt and the loss of faith that you would come out on top, the loss of your own power.

The quest is to become the child again; as Neitchze put it…

As an individual you are tasked with breaking free from the herd to do what you will, for the sport of creation – perpetual creation.

Get lost in the creation of your reality; whatever it actually is.

Lose your mind in it; the lower, mind of course.

The higher needs the freedom from the false illusions of expectations and self-doubt.


Free your mind,


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