It first occurred to me, to write this book when I was at my lowest point, working in an office, anonymous, disrespected, unappreciated, feeling dependent, and weak. I saw the opportunity, in the quiet hours I passed alone, doing paperwork, with seemingly no purpose or end.
With mundane tasks to accomplish and a tireless routine before me, I imagined who I wanted to be.
It was the inverse opposite of what my job expected from me—a charismatic cult leader, larger than life, having adventures, trying the limits of death, on the mountains of madness.
Quotations from my favorite movies entered my mind (a storehouse of over two decades of wild philosophies, espoused by dangerous men).
One of my most favorite quotations and characters is from The Lost World: Jurassic Park.
Roland Tembo (a bounty hunter) is asked why he is there.
He replies, “Somewhere on this island is the greatest predator there has ever lived. The second greatest predator must take him down.”
Of course, the man he says this to, scoffs, and it’s a perfect example of the hidden differences that exist between men, seemingly doing the same thing. They’re both on a dinosaur safari, but one is there for money, and the other is there to hunt a tyrannosaur.
Fiat currency is worthless—except for the value we assign to it.
Roland Tembo invests in the hunt. That’s where his pay-off is. Most people save their money for a rainy day, because they want security.
Roland is doing what he wants to do. There is no greater pay-off than that. He is willing to risk his life, to hunt the deadliest predator known to man.
When asked about his strange motivation, Roland Tembo replies,
“Remember that chap about twenty years ago? I forget his name. Climbed Everest without any oxygen, came down nearly dead. When they asked him, they said why did you go up there to die? he said I didn’t, I went up there to live.”
We are all dying slowly, and we can only know life, when we recognize our death—to ignore it, is our own folly.
People spend their whole lives, living cautiously.
They save up wasted days for a grand moment that never comes.
All we have is the day, and the triumph of action over it—
the satisfaction of defining that grand moment.