The Matchup

The first of many. Enjoy.

	Me	Barack Obama
Age	25	47
Heritage	Scotch-Werebeast	English-Kenyan
Height	6'	6' 1.5"
Weight	182 lbs.	160 lbs.
Reach	76"	78"
Style	Tiger-Ox	Dialog

I also found this. Weakling.

Bonus Mental Achievement: Puzzle Mastery

I recently completed The Fool's Errand - the classic late-80's cult puzzle hit, featured in Wired here. The puzzles range pretty widely in their difficulty, and some are outright impossible on a modern computer (thanks for the workaround, internets!), and should you choose to undertake the Errand as well, know that you should probably opt to use the keyboard over the mouse - apparently mice cursors in 1987 could only move in one-inch increments.

Among The Fool's Errand fan base is none other than JJ Abrams, which means I now probably have the mental capacity for deciphering nonsensical and spontaneous plot twists, and can fully appreciate the subtle undertones of arcana (read: Tarot) that permeate Lost. Note that I say "subtle undertones" instead of "subtle symbolism", since as far as I can tell, all major and minor arcana is completely meaningless.

Nonetheless, I doubt the President has even heard of The Fool's Errand or its progeny, such as Myst. This clearly gives me the advantage should the President and I do battle in some ancient, trap-riddled temple, or in any movie starring Nicholas Cage or Tom Hanks.

Day One: The Weigh-In

Training power, activate! Today, the Challenge has officially begun - I've joined the gym, and even set aside a little time for some light reading.

The Mental Challenge: Warped Passages by Lisa Randall (Ecco, 2005)

I already have a rudimentary understanding of quantum physics in the Standard Model, thanks to Stephen Hawking and Wikipedia. But this looks to be much more in-depth than say, The Universe in a Nutshell, and after the first chapter it seems to be nonetheless accessible to a lay person. Check out Dr. Randall's interview with Charlie Rose if you want a taste.

The relevance to the fight: What more potent weapon could I possibly wield than the secrets of the universe? Well, for one it would give me a tactical advantage should we do battle at any of the numerous (read: few) particle accelerators, including Fermilab in the President's own Illinois. Hey, Mr. President, what's the difference between a fermion and a boson? Oh, do you give up? Well too late, because my punchons have already communicated the strong force all over your face. That's SCIENCE.

The Physical Challenge: Actually Working Out

Today I joined the gym, lifted heavy things, and ran a substantial distance. I weighed in at 182 pounds. Not as bad as I thought.

After eight grueling minutes, I crawled to my car, battered, my legs useless at that point, and I had a startling revelation:

I know absolutely nothing about personal fitness.

So, I'm officially soliciting help from you guys. Got any workout tips? Dietary advice? If you have any exercise routines, or know of any superfoods that might help me, please comment here or shoot me an e-mail. Whatever. I know that my approach to diet and exercise depends on what kind of results I want, but that's kind of hard to put into words. So instead of describing what I'm looking for, I've decided to include this picture:



Yes, I am willing to substitute muscles for machine guns or chains.

Dear Secret Service...

It crossed my mind that in the interest of keeping my ass out of Guantanamo, I should answer a couple of questions I've already been asked by my oh-so-eager readers.

First: "Do you think the Secret Service/FBI/DHS would consider this blog a threat on the President's health?"

Gee, I hope not, although it's flattering to think that my little blog could strike such terror into the West. In fact, I have no intention of engaging the President in fisticuffs, and I don't actually bear the man any ill will at all.

This blog is just a long-running project to make one of my close friends eat her words. So while the bout between myself and the President is highly hypothetical, the battle with my ex isn't. Moreover, this blog isn't even intended to be a critique of Obama's presidency, although I'm sure I'll have a critical word for him from time to time. He's the center of global politics, so I'm bound to have my misgivings now and again. It comes with the territory.

Second: "I don't get it. If you don't hate the President, why am I reading this? What's this blog 'about?'"

Well, you would know if you read the answer above, dumbass. But to be more specific, this project is more or less all of the following things (in no particular order):
1) A way for me to burn some time this summer.
2) A means of keeping my ass going to the gym, so I can reverse the mole-person transformation effect that law school has had on me.
3) A forum to air my political grievances.
4) A general nerdery, wherein all manner of radness are discussed and debated.

With that said, let's keep our eye on the prize: becoming Jason Bourne.



Later today: I weigh in.

The History of the Challenge

One sunny day in the law library, some friends and I were discussing our venerable presidential history - our favorites, least favorite, best war time, best peace time, greatest sex appeal, etc. As you might expect, this rapidly degenerated into a ninja v. robot thought experiment in which we placed various presidents in hypothetical bouts against others, and ultimately ourselves. The question formulated was this:

Could you beat (President X), at the time he was in office, in a one-on-one street fight?

Numerous "no's" instantly stood out: Andrew Jackson. HW Bush.
Interesting toss-ups were debated: Taft. Nixon.
Few received an unqeustionable "yes": Jimmy Carter.

I posited that our current president fit this last category, and this was met with rather broad agreement. Slight build. Clearly a finesse player. Could not, in any world, be described as "grizzled". Harvard. There was a general consensus that Barack Obama, for all of his charisma and integrity, was nonetheless a clearly beat-uppable president. I later pitched this to my ex-girlfriend-turned-bff who, much to my dismay, laughed me off of the phone, doing unspeakable damage to my vast, overinflated ego.

Now, there's no doubt that her response was fueled by her womanly weakness for the O-Man, in addition to her unyielding allegiance to the left (she makes Justice Stevens look like Nathan Bedford Forrest), but her response sent me reeling nonetheless. What if I'm more out of shape than I thought? What if I really would lose a fight to Barack Obama?

Well, in a couple of months that's going to be a complete impossibility.

This summer, I will be vigorously training my mind, body, and awesome in order to shape myself into a presidential wrecking machine - creating myself anew as a sparkling adonis that is equal parts deadly and rad.

In the words of Theodore Roosevelt: "LET'S DO THIIIIS!!!"
And THAT son of a bitch wore a monocle.

It Begins...

The gauntlet has been cast at my feet, and I have picked it up.

This summer, I will dedicate myself to becoming a finely tuned, sexy, cunning, and sexy president-thrashing machine. That's right. This summer, I will undergo the strenuous physical training and mental preparation required to best the President of the United States in hand-to-hand combat.*

The history of this challenge and its details will follow shortly.

I'm calling you out, Mr. Obama.*

- D

* - Hypothetically.