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2018-01-21T16:22:12.361Z
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Believe it or not, there used to be at least a half dozen dudes in World Gym Tucson just in the evening crew who could Behind The Neck Press 315lbs.   Walking into a gym used to be a humbling experience.  Benny Podda-esque shit was commonplace- you might not see a half naked wild man covered in blood rip a water fountain out of the wall and toss it across the room, but there was enough wild-eyed screaming and ECA-fueled rampages throughout the gym that as a newcomer, you trod lightly.  But as you became inculcated in that community, you became more savage, more feral, more muscular, and far stronger.  There was no other option- kill or be kill, eat or be eaten.  If you were a tourist, you were treated as such, shunned and reviled by the locals as beneath contempt. 
Few people in the world combine a marked distaste for evolutionary science, crippled intellects, shoddy understanding of the human body, stupid religious beliefs of which they're likely unaware, and the kind of unlikeability that would make a sleepover with Rosanne, Martin Short, and Gilbert Gottfried seem like more fun than a barrel full of monkeys like vegetarians and vegans do.  Frankly, thinking people should be avoiding vegetarians and vegans with the same assiduousness that we did leprosy or cholera years ago, but for some reason we allow them to bleat their insipid beliefs in public in spite of the fact we'd hang a beating on creationists for doing the same.  Preachy in ways you'd think only big tent revivalist preachers could be, steadfast in their total unwillingness to consider things like science or reason, and displaying the kind of smugness you only see out of shit comedians who think they're far funnier than they are, like that unfuckable bag of anti-hilarity Whitney Cummings, vegans and vegetarians ought to be exterminated with prejudice, yet we fail to do so for unknowable reason
I've decried the modern era of lifting for a wide variety of things ranging from people treating competitive lifting like a fun run to the idiotic dogmatism people have for certain training methods / disciplines to rampant consumerism, but perhaps no other modern era tendency in lifting is more ubiquitous or fucking annoying than the tendency people have to endlessly talk about lifting on the internet.  Day in and day out people are yammering on about their latest unmemorable workout, their new program, what diet they're on, or asking questions about a mishmash of those things and making vast proclamations about what they intended to do.  This phenomenon has come to make me hate the online community of lifters that I'd lose sleep over the fact that the gym is no longer the bastion of awesome it once was, but is instead filled with people I would literally as soon kill as look at.  The internet has literally ruined lifting, the lifting community, gyms, and has made just about everyone with whom I might have had something in common nothing more than prey and a target for pure hatred. 
If the choice is eating like this or finding out what a .45 round tastes like hot out of the barrel, hand me that hand cannon and pour some Dave's Insanity Sauce on the bullet before I pull the trigger.  And Mrs. Goddamned Dash?  You've got to be fucking joking.We've all fallen into the trap of eating to feed the machine- it's been a badge of pride for me throughout the years, and I know it is for many bodybuilders.  The asceticism of eating bland, unfulfilling meals with perfect macros and the superiority with the stoic refusal to eat a slice a pizza while out with your friends on Friday night, or refusing altogether to go out and silently proclaiming your supremacy over the people around you who refused to live like some weird, tan monk in an effort to achieve weight-induced enlightenment.Just say no to asceticism.If...
[Check out Part 1 in this series here, and if you've already read it, give it another look in the Pehlwan section, as I found more detailed information on The Great Gama's training methods and lunatic, Saxon-style diet.]If there's anything humans love more than inflicting grievous injury on one another, it's watching other people inflict grievous injury on one another.Clearly, fighting techniques and training methods have some ancient roots, and in spite of their age, the techniques for building strength and endurance for combat have remained relatively standard throughout time.    Of course, every style seems to bring with it a twist of the tried and true, and it is in these twists that one find the Willy Wonka-esque Golden Ticket to preparing to turn one's fellow man into a pile of bubbling hamburger on the bar floor, parking lot, mat, or battlefield.  Lest you think that following in the training paths of fighters in styles you dislike, mock, revile, or simply dismiss out of hand, think again- there is something to be drawn from the experiences of any successful participant in sports requiring aggression, strength, and endurance in every other sport requiring the same.Frankly, you're probably wasting your time...
A Short Aside for Those Who Think They Cannot CookBefore we get started on another food blog, I figure it bears mentioning that I'm aware that some of you refuse to accept the fact that cooking is in your DNA.  Literally. Homo Erectus began cooking food at least a million goddamned years ago.  So, before you begin your bullshit, pre-baked, lazy nonsense about how you cannot cook, acknowledge the fact that IT'S REALLY NOT ROCKET SURGERY.  I realize, however, that trying new things is daunting, and there is a high cost to fucking up expensive recipes.  Frankly, there's a high cost to simply filling a spice cabinet.  There's a higher cost to you, however, if you simply eat bland, awful crap all the time, because  "in fact 95 percent of the body's serotonin is found in the bowels."Yeah, eating food that tastes good is more important for your mood than anything else, and if your mood sucks, so will your sleep, training, and life in general.
The intervening period between my last article of this nature and this one were... tumultuous, you might say.  I have learned a lot about life, the world, your mom, the fact that shit is not always fair, and nothing is guaranteed to go your way. Additionally, if it seems to be going your way, you best not be fooled- as I said in my last psychological article hate is a good thing and so is pessimism.  Life doesn't always come out chicken and waffles- even when succeeding is easy, because if you're a psychopath who lives by mottos like "moderation is mediocrity; extremity is excellence", you certainly can still find a way to lose.If you're not caught up on the goings on in my life, I got into a crazy relationship the insane, Hunter S. Thompson-worthy details of which will remain unpublished until...
"I don't want to place too much importance on hot sauce, but I don't think I'm overstepping my bounds when I say hot sauce is to food what salvation is to humanity.  Bland people like bland food, and the merit of your character will ultimately be determined by your preference for spicy foods" (Maddox).Many of you might recall that incredibly astute Maddox quote from its previous use in my Stewroids series, and if you're still reading this, I'm certain you must agree.  Tragically, however, circumstances force upon us, be they long car rides during which we'd rather not accidentally shit wet, firey lava out of our asses to punctuate a slight cough, some unfortunate shared meal with parties less desirous of interesting and exciting foods, or just somewhat bland food that needs to be kicked the fuck up a notch, and hot sauces are required to ensure that we maintain homeostasis with the fire of a thousand tortured souls residing in our collective belly to drive the engine of progress through the aether.
"Hate is as good as any to keep a man going. Better than most."— Sandor Clegane, Game of ThronesThe last day of his eighth grade year, Herschel Walker finally decided to step outside and join his classmates for recess.  This kid was so timid mice would brazenly walk up to him and piss on his shoes, and so fucking frightened of other people that his stammer had his teachers thinking he was retarded (although he went on to become class valedictorian in high school).  Herschel had never joined his classmates outside, but since it was the last day of eighth grade, fat, smelly, little Herschel decided that although he was the weird, possibly retarded fat kid, a game of kickball might be all he needed to right the ship and set the tone for a badass high school career.  He was right, but for all the...
"You may never equal the grip strength of John Y. Smith who at 160 pounds bodyweight and in his 40's deadlifted 450 pounds in his right hand and 425 in his left before completely destroying his back while lowering the bells to the floor and as a result suffered a massive stroke resulting in having to live out the rest of his years in a deadlift-eccentric induced coma" (Batchelor).After several aborted attempts to conjure up a hyper-compelling opener for what might just be the granddaddy of all Baddest Motherfuckers entries, I realized that no sentence I could possibly compose, even at my most hilarious, brutal, and eloquent, could possibly outdo the above quotation, which is entirely the reason behind this mindblowingly brutal motherfucker's biography.  What you are about to read is the story of a man who is equal parts Arthur Saxon and Popeye.  A story that may make you rethink even bothering to go to the gym because there is no way you will ever come to within screaming distance of this man.  This is the story of a man who didn't start lifting weights until he was 30 and went on to pull ONE-HANDED DEADLIFTS...
By this point, I'm sure a lot of you are thinking "FUCK THIS BODYWEIGHT SHIT, BRING THE WEIGHTS", which I'll have to admit I was thinking a hell of a lot during my interviews.  No matter how vehemently people insist they get huge off bodyweight exercises, I have never found that I can get serious gains with bodyweight-only work.  Perhaps it's that my diet won't support growth during those ventures, the fact that I would probably be walking around at 145 lbs if I wasn't diligently out-eating my appetite multiple times a day and supplementing with protein while lifting far more poundage than my tiny frame was ever designed to handle, or simply the fact that high rep work with or without weights has never served to do more than add conditioning and definition to my body, but I harbor more skepticism for light rep work than Flat Earthers have for any sentence that might issue forth from Neil DeGrasse Tyson's mouth at any given moment.  Nevertheless, inmates definitely swear by it... though they were more than happy to tell me about their forays (and subsequent massive gains) from the wacky odd-object lifting they get up to in lockup.It's working for former-NFL-badass-and-almost-future-Hall-of-Famer-but-serial-rapist--is-going-to-die-in-jail Darren Sharper, it seems.  Perhaps he'll avoid...
Though I am hardly one to start some shit on the internet or raise the slightest fuss about anything whatsoever, having been surprised to read a report on the 2016 Olympia on the Bleacher Report last month, I feel compelled to chime in about claims to the effect that Arnold was one of the greatest bodybuilders in the history of that competitive sport.  Like the persistent ignorance regarding the history and ridiculously insane fallacy of body structure phenotypes, virulent, fervent, and borderline psychosis regarding Arnold Schwarzenegger's competitive dominance and his potential placings in fantasy matchups with other bodybuilding superstars is as endless as it is as retarded... and we're talking low-functioning handypotato deep in a K-Hole after a three week bath salt binge retarded, not the potato from The Ringer retarded. Tards is about ta get feisty.I'm certain this will cause a great many of you no little amount of consternation, given the fact that Arnold was likely involved, at least in some...
This should say "I will judge you if you didn't have to watch August Mordum Underground more than once because you were too busy fucking to see half of it.  Same goes for A Serbian Film- I still have yet to be facing the screen for the childbirth scene.Holy shit, that was quite a lengthy break I took in between articles, but you all have my assurance that such Maddox-esque breaks in productivity will not continue to be the norm.  It might come as a surprise to many of that you that a person like myself might suffer from burnout, but by my estimation there was not a single week between August 1995 and February 2015 that I trained less than four times in any given week, even as I was traveling around Asia and Europe, getting surgeries, marriage, divorce, and any other ridiculous thing of which you could think.  Finally, I cracked last year and my training slipped into the abyss as I partied my ass off and watched nearly every horror movie above a D-grade available on the internet (and if you haven't seen August Mordum Underground, do yourself a favor and call of the kinkiest motherfucker of whatever gender you feel like banging, grab a bottle of whatever you feel like drinking, every sex toy at your disposal, and a trashcan...
One topic that seems to pop up on internet message boards with the regularity of a geriatric with a Metamucil addiction and the high-speed insanity of the pop-up plastic punching bag rodents in Whack-a-Mole is the unerring ability of inmates to get jacked and strong in spite of their indigence. appalling soy-and-sugar-filled diets, and the occasional inaccessibility of strength training equipment.  By rights, every inmate in America should look like a pasty-faced, estrogen-filled, paunchy, detrained, sloppy-assed couch potato, but instead look like jacked-as-fuck bodybuilders that most gym goers wish they did.  Every now and again, a pic will surface on the internet showing a bunch of dangerous looking dudes so heavily muscled that they make the nerds on Bodybuilding.com start paying to the sniveling gods of Planet Fitness for a lunk alarm to magically appear on their desks.  The subsequent conversation regarding the methods the inmates used to send a giant “FUCK YOU” to the gods and the internet dipshits who demand empirical evidence for every diet and training method is invariably based upon the rambling musings of the genetic freak, general lunatic, and superhumanly strong inmate known as “Britain’s Most Dangerous Man”, Charles Bronson, and due to a total lack of other legitimate resources, never provides an adequate answer.  The topic...
Jack was nimble, Jack was quickJack gouged eyes with candle sticksAnd smashed in skulls with sticks and stonesUsed iron bars to crush their bones so he could hide his kills in tiny places and he wouldn't have to see their facesHe'd stick knives in their faces and cut out their tummiesAnd stamp on their heads 'till their brains got all runnyOld Man Winter has shown up to jam his fist violently up our collective asses, and no matter how much you love the season, it can fuck you harder than a riled up donkey in Tijuana.  Protest all you like about how much you love snow and skiing and ice and frostbite and all of that bullshit, but no one is...
I'd sort of abandoned this series, thinking there was no place to go with it, but that's about as sensible as the Christians' collective spazzing about the "War On Christmas" they allege Starbucks is waging with their redesigned holiday cups.  One can have too much stew like one can have too many blowjobs- the shit just isn't fucking possible.  Moreover, I've not even delved into hearty soups, which is partly where I'm going with this, as I didn't even know the actual difference between a soup and a stew until googling it.  Apparently, the difference is mostly theoretical.  According to "Taste of Home":What's the difference between soup and stew? In theory, a soup is a combination of vegetables, meat or fish cooked in liquid. A stew is any dish that's prepared by stewing - that is, the food is barely covered with liquid and simmered for a long time in a covered pot.In short, they're pretty much the same fucking thing.  Meat and vegetables in a broth, with all of the deliciousness and nutrition you can possibly pack into them.  They're both easy as all hell to make, they're endlessly modifiable, they warm you up on cold days, and they can be fucking crucial for bulking diets jest...
Identifying Which Type of "Paleo" Dieting is Best for You​By this point, it should be apparent  that there is hardly any consensus on what, exactly, comprises the diet of our Paleolithic forebears, be it in the media, scholastic circles, the general public, or even the hard sciences.  The debate on this topic, which is generally about as civil as those witnessed between the heavily tanned, overly medicated, and utterly worthless, vapid cunts on Real Housewives of New Jersey, seems to have no logical ending point.  Due to the reticence of the scientific community to support it (ostensibly due to massive pressure more nefarious than Ivan the Terrible's secret police), no clear answer in regards to what constitutes an ancestral or Paleolithic diet can be reached.  Moreover, due to modern agriculture and the unwillingness of most people to accept the facts that 1) no one who eats modern produce is truly eating "Paleo" and 2) there is no one "ultimate" or "perfect" Paleolithic Diet, this question literally cannot be resolved because we cannot recreate the diet without foraging and because the answer is far more complex than a simple yes or no.Happy hunting!Interestingly, I stumbled across an article in Scientific American that echoed my sentiments regarding the...
As I stated in the previous entry, there is some confusion as to what "type" of paleo one should choose.  That's unsurprising, given that scientists seem to be even more divided on the topic than are the authors who tout the various types.  Thus, I feel fairly confident chiming in on the topic in spite of the fact that I don't consider myself necessarily an advocate of a paleolithic diet, though it's due in large part to the fact that paleotards are as intolerable as evangelical Christians and twice as misinformed.  The fact that they're misinformed is not entirely their fault, however, due to the disparity in information coming from paleo authors, archaeologists, and scientists, however, and I would posit that the disagreements in the field arise out of two fundamental issues:1) Geographical diversity.  Even in Europe, for instance, there's avast difference in the native flora and fauna of, say, England, Spain, and Germany.  Each area, however, contained both Neanderthals and Cro-Magnon man, and both of those hominids shared similar diets.  Their diets would, however, have to have differed necessarily based on the food available to them at the time.  Thus, depending on the specimen studied, differing opinions about what is "paleo" might arise.  Some of them might have eaten more carbohydrate than others, and in Europe the "high carbohydrate specimens might have eaten...
Now that is a fucking metal face.Growing up, I had two martial arts heroes- Stephen Seagal and Jean Claude Van Damme.  Sadly, Van Damme, all 155 lbs of coke-fueled, stripper groping, splits-doing idiot of him, got beating like a housewife in a trailer home by Hell's Angel-turned-bouncer Chuck Zito, and around the same time, Seagal was literally forced to piss his pants by a 58 year old man- the incomparable, unbeatable, innovative, and crueler than Vlad the Impaler, "Judo" Gene LeBell.  According to the stories, Gene was working on the set of Out for Justice when Seagal started mouthing off like he was a frat boy in an 18 and over bar, claiming that due to his aikido training, he was immune to chokes.  LeBell, who was aware of Seagal's shitty reputation ("he would hurt actors and stunt performers, dislocated shoulders, kick guys in the nuts to see if they were wearing cups, etc") proceeded to immediately choke out Seagal and manipulate acupuncture points so that Seagal shit and pissed himself (Mancini, Mma.com).  Not bad for a who's 58 year old in a pink gi... not bad at all.  After all, he had to contend witht the likes of this absolute beast of a...
In the dark, misty depths of history, when men were violent, bloodthirsty killing machines and women were slightly less prone to fomenting a bloodbath, access to gyms was essentially limited to Sparta, Greece and India.  While neither of those nations are known for producing hulking mounds of sinewy muscle in the modern era, they were the only two places in the ancient world that boasted gyms.  The Spartan version, called the agoge, was likely so nightmarish that one would prefer to have sex with a broken-glass-filled-vagina'd Rosie O'Donnell.  Beginning at the age of seven, Spartan boys were underfed, underclothed, overworked, beaten, and taught to be fucking hard.  They were regularly forced to fight to death in an über, super fucking brutal version of MMA called pankration, in which fish hooking and eye gouging were encouraged.  Though they were gyms, they had no weights to lift- instead the students of the agoge regularly lifted and carried stones and logs for distance as if they were in the modern World's Strongest Man.The Spartans also did a lot of group-oriented calisthenics which, interestingly, led Xerxes to think that they were weaker than a twink with AIDS.  After sending spies to watch the Spartans train, Xerxes discovered that the Spartans exercised in unison with rhythmic movements, which the Persians misinterpreted (hilariously) as dancing.  Thus, they thought they could just roll the apparently light-of-heel Spartans up, and then unknowingly walked right into the teeth of a well-oiled, incredibly...