Mr. Motivator is not some spandex-wielding action man doing a hundred squats a minute but a wheelchair-bound, dribbling and drooling, goggle-eyed invalid who cannot do anything for himself any longer and who needs constant attention like a baby. This is your Mr. Motivator, that moves you off your fat ass and gets you moving: this image not of your death (death is nothing) but of your impending decrepitude if you don't look after your body. All anguish and suffering derives from neglect of the essential. That 'essential' is your body, is what you put in that body, and how you move that body. You are not just what and how you eat, you are how you move. When you neglect this 'how' you also neglect your own spirit and it's this spirit that guides your mind which then advises the body. The other day I came across an old Thames Valley news item on the once famous Englishman Terry-Thomas. He was the bumbling Brit with the mobile eyebrows and gap-toothed mouth who starred in such notable films as It's A Mad Mad Mad Mad World and Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines. The article showed him with a few months to live dying from Parkinson's disease. He was unrecognisable as the smiling bumbling fool he had once made his name with. He was also skint and 'living' (actually dying) in a shoddy little bedsit in Surrey being looked after by his loving wife. The scene was grim and it was a far cry from the extravagant Beverly Hills and Balearic island lifestyle he once led. This is the image you look at when you just can't be bothered engaging your engines. The code of the Samurai, the Bushido, states that every samurai warrior should meditate upon death daily, and being ripped apart by the enemy. Mikey's code states similarly, though with one or two minor adjustments: that one should meditate upon decrepitude daily by looking at the last days of Terry-Thomas. It's like a picture of Christ for the inverted.
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