Am I Qui-Gon? Darth Maul? The Duality of the Fates.

I start fasting...I quit fasting...I start...I quit...I start...

Yes, with this fast, its principle focus is health. But which health? The knee-jerk reaction would be physical, since the vehicle itself and its effects are readily apparent. Bam, check that answer off. Yet, the body is but a puppet on the string and for this puppeteer; it dances for me. No, this fast is much more about my soul, for the body will follow me down whatever path I choose to go. Now as to the puppeteer of my soul, well, that makes for an intriguing discussion that falls by a wide margin outside the purview of this post—my perspective generally falls into a realm where the whole matter is out of our hands anyway...

Let's reel it back from the deep waters...don't get me wrong, I've never been one to play on the beach, whether literally or figuratively, but sometimes when I go deep sea fishing, my writing gets esoteric and someone else is at the helm. I dunno, maybe he's a better guy than me...or I'm him and this other moron keeps pawing for the throttle.

Fasting is about correcting spiritual health. When the soul is sick, the body will fail. That said, sometimes nachos are just nachos. And sometimes entropy ravages. But with the macro, widescale (or more directly "heavy-scale") obesity isn't due to nachos—even copious amounts of barbecue nachos that we'd shovel into a wheelbarrow. There is something more entrenched within us that no closet smacking of spandex straight out of 1982 could ever resolve.

Throwing cash at the problem won't solve it. I don't care how many parks, greenlines, or bicycle paths you create, intrinsically, the methods of methheads are methheads.

If you want to become a better writer, read more. If you want to have a better physique, amplify your soul.