In business, there are only three ways to respond to an offer. Yes, no, idk yet, lemme think about it, i’ll get back to you in x time, which then turns into a yes or no. If you do business in any other way, you’re a cuck. Period.
A gentleman keeps his word. Has honor. If he makes a promise, he keeps it. If he breaks it, he compensates for it. To get his honor back, or get rid of the stain of the dishonor. Simple elegant samurai methods. Back then, you fucked up, you commit seppuku (suicide by blade to the gut, slice and all your intestins fall out and you die) as compensation for your screw up. A form of honor killing (of the self in this case). That’s how much honor matters, and should. We live in a society ..
It costs money to have a soul these days. Scammers and grifters can make money but it chips away at their souls and they know it. Other (more honorable) people could do the exact same thing (maybe not so good, or else someone will call cope again, but they can copy these guys) but they know their consciousness weighs too heavily on them. It feels good to do the right thing, but it might not always pay. At least not monetarily. There will be some Karmic retribution, for both sides — which perhaps given that some people think religions and certain ideologies are just rudimentary superstitious beliefs of our ancestors might also be a cope (see Waking up by Sam Harris) — a Karmic debt to pay, or the inverse, perhaps some Karmic price. A katharsis of some sorts, at the end, where the scales are balanced. It does give some solace to zoom out like that, and ahead, to make your life have meaning and purpose and to live with dignity, honor, respect, justice, courage, virtue and wisdom. It feels good really. But the good side is always harder. The dark side is easier and seems to be like those get rich schemes. Everyone wants the hack, in any domain of their life, and choosing the dark side is no different. This Faustian motif has been lingering with society for eons, now. Sell you soul, right now, this instant, and in return you get all kinds of earthly and material goods, which make you feel good, this very instant. This is very much the cheap instant dopamine hit kind of culture which seems to prevail these days. If the Faustian bargain is the blackpill, then the whitepill must be the antidote. The blackpill is instantaneous, singular, but the whitepill must be taken, daily. A conscious decision to move towards the light, do good on a daily basis, and keep getting good Karma, and keep your conscience clean and keep living in a way which is aligned with your principles and values and beliefs and identity that makes you a good person (classic Stoicism).
A gentleman may be about town, a flaneur, a boulevardier, but deep down he’s always about his family. His village. His roots. Where he came from. Keeping up with the Joneses, knowing the different vintages of wine, white, and red. Knowing the nose and palate and body and finish of this or that whiskey, the flavor notes of cigars. All that is external, and if you think about it, superficial, compared to what really matters. All that pales, compared to blood, or bonds forged like blood, blood oaths, forged in the trenches. All that, in the End, on your deathbed, that shit dont mean nothing. A gentleman understands he’s the link between his ancestors and descendants, and that’s the fanciest shit he should ever care about.
Every gentleman needs three mentors in his life. Three types of mentors, to be exact. One younger than him, his junior. One of equal age, his peer. And finally one older than him, his senior. The reason for this versatility in mentorship is to get the most out of all the ages, get the broadest of perspectives available.
Someone who’s younger than you, you can mentor, like it was supposed to traditionally. You can give advice and insights, how you would have done xyz, when you were their age. You give back, you pay forward. This is very classic. The feedback, of course, goes the other way around, someone who’s younger than you can be quite insightful, and vigorous, and precocious, and full of joy and awe and wonder of life, and thus spark things in you, you would have missed, or things that might have died out and down, long gone.
Your peer is your brother in the trenches. With him, you can relate the most, and he with you. You go through the same mud, and thus bond in a certain way almost like blood. With him you do the work, divide stuff equally, and forge a loyal bond. From which the riches flow, and spoils, which in turn you then spread over, and delegate, over the juniors, the ones you mentor that are younger than you (or just less experienced).
The senior type of mentor has seen it, been there and down that. A certain je ne sais quoi, with a forceful penetrative impact on the world and specifically, his world. A force of nature, someone to be reckoned with, and home to all walks of life. This person doesn’t have to be older, per se, but can just be more experienced, and thus is a wellspring of energy, resources, connections, everything really. Aka, the perfect type of mentor, for you. You are his junior, basically.
When you’re playing the game of life, the aforementioned set of mentors is a pivotal weapon in your arsenal. It’s a trump card, and will make you excel, exponentially, truly. It’s insane, if you think about it. You get information, and wisdom, and knowledge, and insights across the board, from all three times, younger, same age, and older, it should be forbidden, this powerful tool.
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