My dream job—if I wasn’t broke—beyond the MMA, beyond the philosophy, beyond the screenwriting and novels… would have been to become a general in the U.S. military, or to join the CIA. Unfortunately, I’m not in a position to do so. So I figured: If I can’t wage war for the body of the nation, I’ll wage war for its soul, its mind, its psyche—through art, film, and media. What else does a soldier fight for—die for—but a home to come back to? And there is no home more sacred, more entitled to sovereignty, than one’s own mind. It is one thing to take a man’s arm, his leg, his property. It is another matter altogether to rob a man of his spirit— the only thing in this world he can truly claim as his own. That, to me, is a cardinal sin. Once the Lord leaves someone… there ain’t no fight left in them. And it is the will of every organism—conscious or not—to assert its boundaries. And a nation… lives.