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Smack My Controversy column Back in the day, the archer was alone with his bow (it was an intimate relationship) between the man and his tool, the same sheer connection bound him to his quiver of arrows and the importance of his own skill. No clickers telling whether or not to shoot, no stabilisers controlling hand shake, no finely crafted rests murmuring gentle reassurances. There was only the body, the bow, and the air between them. And yet, he shot. He shot well. He shot true.Now, I walk into an archery shop, and I see a different kind of archer. He is careful, methodical, adjusting, tweaking, measuring. He does not shoot until his setup is perfect, his spine alignment checked, his tiller fine-tuned, his clicker clicking in the precise millisecond of supposed certainty. His bow is not an extension of himself—it is a machine, programmed, calibrated, balanced to perfection. He relies on it to remove…
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