A numbered manifesto
- Winter sharpens the mind.
Cold air strips away illusions. When winter arrives, I think about the planet, life, civilization, and direction. Comfort fades. Meaning sharpens. Cold clarifies. - The Odyssey returns — and that matters.
I was casually scrolling IMDb and got hit with a thunderbolt: The Odyssey by Christopher Nolan.
That alone tells you something about the cultural moment. We’re hungry again for myth, endurance, journey, trial, return. Not superheroes. Not irony. Odyssey. - Pacifism isn’t weakness — it’s clarity.
I’ve been a pacifist since I was a kid. Even at 12 years old, it was obvious: if the U.S. redirected even half of its military budget into education—teachers, after-school programs, real mentorship—we’d raise giants instead of broken men.
Discipline before destruction. Training before violence. - Green is the color of life, not aggression.
A high-gloss military green vehicle wrap stopped me cold.
Funny thing: people love red Ferraris—but nobody wants red portfolios. Everyone wants green numbers, green grass, green futures.
Military green isn’t about death. It’s about survival. - Modern vehicles are already tanks.
Look around LA. Lifted trucks. SUVs. Armored silhouettes.
Even the Cybertruck feels like an urban tank—angular, brutal, unapologetic.
This isn’t fashion. It’s instinct. People want protection, solidity, presence. - True military lifestyle = austerity.
Spartans didn’t flex purple Lamborghinis.
They flexed discipline. Endurance. Time outdoors. Training under the sun.
The flex wasn’t wealth—it was readiness. - Why modern men are depressed.
There is no sanctioned outlet for physical courage.
No spears. No shields. No battle lines.
When does a modern man ever override his survival instinct, roar, and collide with another human at full force?
Almost never. - Football taught real courage.
I played linebacker—outside and inside.
Kickoff returns are pure terror. You sprint full speed into another armored human doing the same thing.
That’s not skill. That’s not finesse.
That’s raw physical courage. - Physical courage defined.
Physical courage means your bones, brain, and nervous system are on the line.
If you hesitate, you get hurt.
Cowardice has immediate physical consequences. - Courage applies to money too.
Fake investing never works.
Simulations lie.
If real money isn’t on the line, your psychology doesn’t activate.
Exposure creates honesty. - Action item: militarize your environment.
Wrap your car in high-gloss military green.
Not for intimidation—
but as a reminder: you are built for endurance, not decoration. - The real purpose of life: be outside.
Forests. Mountains. Streets. Sidewalks. Trails.
Walk. Bike. Ride transit.
Civilization rots indoors. Life happens outside. - Photography should feel light, not heavy.
I’m still shocked how strong my old Micro Four Thirds body is.
Smaller sensors are underrated.
Autofocus is freedom—especially when photographing your kid running wild.
Missed moments hurt more than missed pixels. - Subtraction is power.
The next Leica Q shouldn’t even have an EVF.
Remove. Strip. Simplify.
What remains becomes sacred. - Askesis = happiness.
Discipline isn’t oppression.
Training isn’t punishment.
Askesis—daily, voluntary hardship—is how joy becomes stable. - Why smaller sensors win.
Bigger sensors = harder focus = more friction.
Micro Four Thirds is forgiving. Fast. Agile.
You still get shallow depth when you want it—and everything else can be solved by AI anyway. - AI killed the gear arms race.
99% of what expensive cameras used to do is now software.
So stop chasing gear.
Return to basics.
Eyes. Legs. Courage. - Military isn’t about killing.
It’s about readiness.
Structure.
Outdoor life.
Training the nervous system to face stress without collapsing. - The future belongs to the disciplined.
Not the loud.
Not the decorated.
But those who train daily, live simply, and stay ready. - Final thought.
Myth is returning.
Discipline is returning.
The outdoor life is returning.
The military ethos—without the violence—is the future.
— ERIC