That is the only reason to watch the fight this Sunday morning between Conor McGregor and Floyd Mayweather , because the possibility of absolute humiliation exists and carries with it the lubricant that can transform potential chaos into kinetic chaos.
Chaos has three prerequisites. 1. An accelerant (in this case , absolute humiliation) 2. Primal Human Instincts. 3. Absolution
For instance if you go back to the Rodney King riots , what was the accelerant? The police beating of a helpless black individual. Which begat primal rage , that beast which lays dormant but willing in all of us. Then released because of absolution , where in that case the shelter of the masses of rioters brought a feeling of absolution from justice.
With the Katrina disaster the accelerant was Katrina itself. That led to rape, looting , and murder in and around the SuperDome. All made possible because the law enforcement said fuck it and hid, thus absolution.
But those were examples of chaos which applied to a mass of people. Very rarely do those three prerequisites exist when referring to one or two individuals.
How interesting is it that not only do they all exist for this fight , but they lay silent and unnoticed like the Wild Fire under the Sept of Baelor in Game of Thrones.
My experience with scenarios of humiliation within the realm of Female Domination coupled with my background in Muay Thai has allowed me to catch a whiff of this disaster before it strikes, allow me to elaborate :
Humiliation , in its absolute form is a rabid animal. It’s not me making a man grovel on the floor at a bar making him lick the gum off the bottom of my boot. Nor is it making a man dress as a maid and serve my friends drinks in my condo. These are examples of humiliation as paltry as they are insignificant , for I have seen the rabid beast with my own eyes in all its honorifics twice in my life and I fear it.
I first witnessed an act of absolute humiliation back in school in what would be your grade 7. A boy, half Thai and half foreigner somehow had the misfortune of landing in my classroom half way through the semester. I say misfortune because when you have someone who looks mostly foreign , and you drop him in the middle of a slum neighborhood school in my country … well that’s like dropping whitey in the middle of a black school in Harlem with a sign around his neck saying I Hate Niggers.
More than a few times I’ve told you in my blog that I was the black sheep of school , also relegated to the back of the classroom to dissuade me from standing up and questioning so many falsehoods. So there I sat with , well I forget his name , but we sat together , alone, in the back row of class and eventually began loosening up towards one another.
In a moment I’ll regret forever, I asked him who he liked in school and he took his trust in me to heart when he pointed out the girl I actually disliked the most , sitting right in front of the teacher as her pretty little pet. Fuck I forget her name too. What matters is that I barely talked to her , I had no reason to really. She at the time was the pretty one and I was the outcast ugly duckling (how cool is it now that I’m super hot while she’s fat and caring for 3 fatherless children in her mother’s run down shanty of a shack still XD).
What caused me to mention to her that this boy liked her , I’ll never know. My intentions were that she’d take a liking to him because he was different and kind of cute. Sadly, our society is run on the principal of uniformity , so it was a notion doomed to fail. What I greatly underestimated was how fast the rumor I started would spread and to what extent people will go when killing something that threatens said uniformity.
That very afternoon the rumor was so hot , it needed to be dealt with in one way or another, and so it was. Settling into our seats after lunch the teacher had yet to arrive when little miss Whatsit stands up on her chair all Dead Poets Society like and said something along these lines at the top of her voice so that not only my class but all the classes nearby could hear : “You are the ugliest creation of a human I have ever seen and I’d rather kiss a pile of shit out my ass than kiss you or be seen with you. You disgust me by sitting in the same class as me and having you sit at the back of the class still contaminates me. Please do us a favor and die.”
I remember her use of the word “us” quite vividly. Being village Thai I doubt she had the IQ to understand the power gained in that moment by using the word “us” , but what it did was in one instant made everybody who was shocked at her outrageous display suddenly team up with her. For there was an instant glare of all the classroom upon us and I remember thinking “I have no intention of being included in the word us.”
There was dead silence which lasted an eternity , and then just as quickly the classroom burst out in laughter at this boy beside me … and to some extent me as well by association … a thunderous cascade of humiliation being poured incessantly upon his head.
Leaving his books behind he ran out of the class and right out of the school. Seconds later like buzzards hovering over a dead carcass some in the class picked over the remains of his tattered backpack to steal the pencil paper and pens he had within. Hey, nothing’s free in this god forsaken place, you don’t have a pencil to write with , well you better steal one cuz nothing is provided.
That was a Friday. On the Monday neither the kid nor Miss Whatsit were in class.
For he had waited for her , and brutally assaulted her to within an inch of her life before the day began, then he disappeared. She came back from the hospital a month later but that boy I never saw again. Primal rage, induced by humiliation … followed by absolution.
I would argue that as an accelerant to chaos , great personal humiliation is a far greater dangerous thing than anything else. Which brings me to the McGregor factor.
Rather than make a silly prediction that will be in an instant brushed aside by all of you as a girl venturing an opinion on something way beyond my scope of comprehension ; I instead will tell you what I witnessed these past two years while training Muay Thai with my personal coach. For within this story lays the path to enlightenment for what’s about to happen this Sunday.
My coach stands about an inch taller than me, which isn’t saying much as I’m just a shade over 5 feet tall myself. He’s a tad pudgy nowadays which is forgivable since he’s nearly 50 but he’s shown me photos of him being thinner than me … back when he was a 10 year undefeated champion in both fighting stadiums here. He retired with a professional record of 247 – 3 , yes you read that correctly, 247 wins. Men here start in the ring well before they are teenagers , it’s one of the few guaranteed ways out of poverty for those who can win consistently.
On occasion after our class had finished I’d hang around doing my yoga on the empty blue Jiu Jitsu mats down below the ring while on Monday’s and Wednesday’s he’d be teaching a sparring class up above me. So while he would have tons of fun playing with these wannabe fighters he enjoyed it the most whenever the gyms Jiu Jitsu coach would participate in the classes. They’d go at it like two playful young wolves and it was really enjoyable to watch.
When they stood up and traded blows , the Jiu Jitsu coach hit air. When things got playfully heated and real , they’d clinch, try to trip or throw one another to the ground and the fight would continue on the mat … briefly … before the Jiu Jistu guy would submit my coach within seconds with a choke usually.
Much later, once we were friends enough to have him come to my condo’s gym for training sessions we’d hang out and talk afterwards. I asked him why he loved to fight with the Jiu Jistu coach so much. “Because I’m fascinated with how inept I am once we go to the ground” he said to me in Thai.
“Elaborate” I begged of him.
“In the ring he has no chance against me , just as I have no chance against him once we fall to the floor. No chance whatsoever, either way.”
For those of you who have ever tried to wrestle with Mistress Wael , a blue belt in Jiu Jistu , and found how impossible it is to do what she commands you to do … lick her pussy just one time, you might have an inkling what it’s like to fight someone with a sliver of knowledge in the sport.
Imagine then , if Mistress Wael was the greatest Jiu Jitsu fighter who ever lived. What would your chances be trying to survive for 10 seconds let alone defeat her?
If that answer is clear cut for you , then why is ascertaining Conor’s chances against the greatest fighter since Ali much different? It isn’t. It’s on a much different scale than when my Muay Thai coach fights his Jiu Jitsu friend in the ring , but the principle’s of impossibility remain intact regardless of the scale.
Once you understand the disparity of knowledge between the two crafts they represent , then you can begin to comprehend the sheer amount of humiliation that Conor is going to come face to face with Sunday.
— ThaiGoddessJaa (@FemDom_Khaleesa) March 22, 2017
Within sseconds, if not minutes , he is going to have to deal with something I am positively sure he already knows … before hundreds of millions of people watching, he is going to be humiliated.
Therein, lays the great possibility of never before seen theatrics.
For there are only two possible outcomes. One is he goes out on his sword , meaning he attacks with reckless abandon to put on a good show and gets knocked out very quickly doing so. I’d be surprised if that’s the solution he chooses. Yes he walks away with 100 million dollars , never to be heard from again, but he’ll never be talked about as much as if he chooses option number two.
Which is …
Remember , what was the vindictive act of the boy in my school? Pure violence right?
When faced with absolute humiliation we are all driven back to what really lays beneath, our primal instincts of survival. While I don’t condone the way the kid beat the shit out of the girl I understand where that violence came from.
My Muay Thai coach used to say to me that all these techniques he was teaching me go right out the window … the instant one gets punched hard in the face. At that moment , one reverts to what he can depend upon for survival. The one or two techniques that you know will ensure you survive.
What do you suppose those instinctual techniques will be for Conor in that moment of truth when he knows as a matter of fact he cannot properly defend himself.
Spinning back kick?
Flying elbow to the bridge of the nose?
For those are the primal techniques he’s depended upon since he began training to fight. Honestly I know nothing of the man and how he fights , I just know that his tools of survival are far different than what Floyd’s are , and whatever the chosen tool will be , I guarantee it is something that Floyd has never seen nor contended with in all his life.
So what if Conor turns and lands a perfectly thrown spinning back kick that removes Floyd from a few of his teeth and lands him face down and bloodied on the canvas? What then?
He’ll be banned from boxing forever. Fine, he’s a UFC fighter.
The brass in the UFC won’t condone what he did , but he’ll be a legend for it. Improper as that is , he’ll walk out with his 100 million dollars as a legend.
Just remember as you sit down to watch it this Sunday morning , humiliation drives men to do crazy things.
Thank you for all the invites to go watch it. Doesn’t interest me in the least. Only the human psychology of it favors my attention. That’s the only thing that’s ever driven me, getting to the root of the male mind. Sunday might be a fascinating display of that mind at work. XD