14 December 2018

Rather Important Announcement: It's Been a Decade, So I'm Changing Shit Up

After ten years, I will admit I am bored as shit with this site.  I'm bored of the name, bored of the retro Blogger shit (though for writing it is vastly preferable to WordPress), and in mind to do something new.

So I did it.  As of Jan 1, this site is going to redirect to a new and far more brutal site.  I actually hired a deathcore band graphic designer to do the logo, am getting similar artists to do other design work for the site and some merch, and will be able to monetize the site so it actually pays for itself rather than costing me money.  

All of the old shit will be available on the new site, and I'm gradually editing it all.  It'll also be searchable and divided into categories.  On top of that, I'll be redoing all of the recipe blogs with pics of my own creations, and I'll be greatly expanding that shit so that you guys have a repository for keto, stewroids, and bulking foods that is easy to search and navigate.  Best of all, the sites that have banned Chaos and Pain won't know what's hit them when people start linking the new site.


It's the dawn of a new world order.  A Plague of Strength is about to spread itself across the land, and it's going to be more polished, more brutal, weirder, and more awesome than the chaos and pain from which it was birthed.

Go here if you want to bookmark it as it's being built, and here's a look at the rough draft of the logo if you're into that sort of thing.

And of course, feel free to bitch in the comments.

12 December 2018

Maurice Jones- Pre-Steroid Era Badass who was Still Curling the 50s at 85 Years of Age

We've all said that so-and-so looks good "for their age."  It's honestly a pretty shitty thing to say, especially when most people look like shit at any age.  Even taking that into account, it's rare that we see people remaining jacked as fuck into their twilight years.  And I don't mean sparkly, homoerotic vegan vampires- I mean liver-spotted, young-whippersnapper-hating, welding glasses-wearing, bingo-playing twilight years.  The years most of us would likely rather forgo for an epic steroids-and-cocaine-fueled bank robbery spree in our early 60s (or am I the only one who thinks that would be an epic way to go out?).  In any event, most of the people on the planet are basically just a droopy pile of fat and bone at that point, so when we see a man or women who is fighting each grain of sand in the hourglass of time, they definitely stand out... and every now and again one of those people makes us all look like a bunch of sloppy, out of shape assholes.


In every way possible preferable to waiting to die on a golf course.


The guys who spring to mind when you think of going down swinging against Old Man Time are people like the ageless Albert Beckles, who looked so preposterously good at the age of 61 (or 53 as the weirdly and endlessly bitter little keyboard warriors over at Getbig.com relentlessly assert) that he won the open class at the IFBB Niagara Pro Invitational; Dave Draper, one of the most epic, really, really ridiculously good-looking bodybuilders of all time and who still looks jacked at 75; Sylvester Stallone, who augmented his usual awesome physique in his 60s with enough GH to supply half the Western world; and Jack LaLanne, the 54 year old fitness guru who smoked a 21 year old Arnold on pullups and pushups.  There are plenty of other beasts of retirement age, but reading online forums or magazines, you'd think every motherfucker in the weight room needs to pretty much hang it up by age 40, and that's just not how the world works.

"I train like I'm training for the Olympics or for a Mr. America contest, the way I've always trained my whole life. 
You see, life is a battlefield. 
Life is survival of the fittest. 
How many healthy people do you know? How many happy people do you know? Think about it. 
People work at dying, they don't work at living
My workout is my obligation to life. It's my tranquilizer. It's part of the way I tell the truth — and telling the truth is what's kept me going all these years." 
- Another aged (and now croaked) badass, Jack LaLanne

When you see a dude or chick who is 60+ and is fucking killing it in the gym every day, rocking low bodyfat and moving serious weights, it should clue you in that 1) you're probably doing everything in your life wrong if you can't match their physique and performance, and 2) you've got a lotta mo' when it comes to time to kill shit in the gym.  That's not to say you should slack now, but that what you are doing now in the gym is setting the stage for what you're going to be able to do later.  Thus, if you want to do more than totter around a fucking field waving a bit of metal or wood about while participating in the lamest goddamned alleged sport on Earth, you shouldn't be reading this anyway- go play some checkers and wait to die.  If you would rather be like Ellen Stein, however, who is still crushing kids a third of her age in powerlifting and keeps getting better with age, allow me to introduce you to a badass of whom I can almost guarantee you've never heard- Maurice Jones.



My man's trap game was on a fucking bean.

Nah- not Maurice Jones Drew, who at age 33 is now bizarrely unmuscular and fat.  Maurice Jones was an American bodybuilder who was born in the same year the Titanic sunk and the first parachute jump was made... 1912, for the unhistorical among you.  Though not a big dude growing up, Jones ended up one of the muscle monsters of the 1940s and 1950s, with a bodyweight that ranged between 200 and 237lbs at a height of 5'9", which according to the "scientists" in the natty bodybuilding community is an utter impossibility.  So when he wasn't constructing a time machine to travel forward in time and obtain the steroids he was obviously taking, Maurice Jones never missed a workout in the five five years he lifted.  That means that in addition to the thirty pound weighted mountain rucks he was fond of taking a couple of times a week, the dude was in the gym training six to nine hours a week with extremely short rest periods (Baptiste, Strossen).  Even after that introductory half-decade, 

“I wasn’t away from them (the weights) for very lengthy periods. I valued it greatly. I always felt so much better when I would have a good workout. I stayed with it,” explains Jones. “I held a certain amount of self-pride, I was going to stick with it till the end. You know, that attitude, and I’m still doing that. I do lots of situps and press-ups between two chairs at times when weights aren’t available” (Strossen).
Fueled by the fantasy steroids envisioned by today's natty bros and a shitload of meat and potatoes, Maurice Jones absolutely mangled the weights.  Lifting at a time prior to the proliferation of the squat rack, Jones started squatting heavy after reading about Milo Steinborn's epic squatting.
“I got up into the very heavy stuff – it used to frighten me before the act. How it all came about was with Milo Steinborn: I read that he had created a world record in the deep knee bend, which I was bound and determined to break, but nobody knew anything about it. And I did get up there over 500. My memory doesn’t serve me as well as it used to, but it was around 525 pounds” (Ibid).

Nor was Jones heaving his weights about- he was well-known for having fanatical adherence to ultra-strict form, treating each lift like it was a ritual whose perfect performance would serve as a sacrifice to keep the Old Ones from destroying humanity.  As bizarre as that is for a Steinborn squat, his stiff-legged deadlifts were probably even more impressive- 425lbs (and occasionally more) for 15 standing on a bench and lowering the bar until it hit the tops of his goddamned feet.  And while we're at it, he would do sprints with a backpack full of plates up mountain trails.  Pretty much all of the man's lifts were beastly:

Maurice Jones' Best Lifts
Steinborn Squat- 415lbs x 2-3 sets of 15; 450 x 10; 525 x 1 (the WR at the time was 553)
Stiff-Legged Deadlift425 x 15
Military Press215 x 12; 260 x 1
Strict Curl- 135 x 12; 175 x 1
Reverse Curl- 120 x 12; 145 x 1
Clean and Jerk- 300 or 325lbs (depending on the source) the only time he tried it, with no instruction and no warmup.
Weighted Situps- reps with 125lbs behind his head
Reverse Curl- 145lbs



Perhaps you're thinking that my man looks thick, but not all that impressive by today's standards.  Well, you're incorrect.  According to the strongman nicknamed "Scottish Hercules," William Bankier (who among other awesome things was the co-founder of the British Society of Jiu-Jitsu, Maurice Jones' physique was more impressive than both Eugen Sandow and George Hackenschmidt, and bodybuilder Walt Baptiste claimed there were only a couple of other men in the same class as Jones- the ultimate bodybuilding badass John Grimek, a ridiculously muscular 1940s bodybuilder of whom I'd never before heard by the name of Sam Loprinzi (who was also jacked until the day he died), and "the immortal" Eugen Sandow (Baptiste).  Drink that in- this badass was held in the same esteem as the guy who is the model for trophy for the most coveted bodybuilding trophy in the world.  His measurements were definitely as impressive as his lifts for the time, looking like this:

Maurice Jones' Most Muscular Measurements
Height – 5’ 8 ½”
Weight – 210lbs
Neck – 18"
Chest – 49 ½"
Waist – 32"
Hips – 39 ½"
Thigh – 26 ½"
Calf – 17 ½"
Bicep – 17 ¾"
Forearm – 14 ½"
Wrist – 7 ½"
Ankle – 9 ½"

Maurice Jones' Biggest Measurements

Height – 5’ 8 ½”
Weight – 237lbs
Neck – 18"
Chest – 52"
Waist – 34 ½"
Thigh – 28"
Bicep – 18 ½"
Forearm – 14 ½"
Wrist – 7 ¾"
Calf – 18"
Ankle – 9 ½"

And to ram another nail into the coffin of the natty bros' vaunted limits on growth, Jones once dieted down to a very lean 195 and arms were measured at just over 18" cold.  So much for that bullshit about your wrist size controlling your upper arm size, eh?


The aforementioned Loprinzi, whose physique is preposterous for 1946 and only 160lbs.

I’ve put up with a lot of pain over the years, years I suffered, but I never avoided my training. You can’t do it for the best part of your life and just forget it. The way I’m built, I have to continue, obviously not as strenuously as before, but I never forget it. I guess there are a lot of weight trainers and people who have done over a period of years and are still doing it.”

Unlike the pussies on IG and various message boards who insist that guys like Calum Von Moger should hide in their houses and do nothing but train, Jones actually got out there and did shit, and he suffered for it.  Over the years the dude broke just about everything traipsing about in the mountains, and ended up having surgeries on his back neck, and both knees, among other things, but none of that shit stopped him from training heavy, cycling, climbing, or trail hiking (Strossen).  At the age of 50 he was said to have the physique of a jacked 21 year old and would jog his burly 205-235lb ass along an 11 mile trail daily.  Even at the age of 85, Jones weighed a solid 185, lifted three times a week, and continued all of his outdoor activities... proving simultaneously that cardio doesn't kill your gains and that you can still move weight into your old age, since he was still curling and overhead pressing the 50s for high rep sets.



Asked what he’d say if a young kid came up to him and said, “Mr. Jones, do you think I should take drugs to get bigger muscles or to get stronger?”: “I would say, don’t become a fanatic, although I must have appeared that way to a lot of people. If you get fanatical about something, it spoils it. You have to recognize the line – that’s the trouble.”

As for his workouts, we have only one sample program he offered from his older years, when his training volume had been cut down considerably.  In his younger years, he and his brother were the proto-Mentzers, training as partners brutal in three hour long sessions consisting of full body workouts and jump sets.  Later on, he kept the giant sets and pared down the volume and offered up this sample program, to be done three times a week.

Maurice Jones Program (when he was in his later years)
Warmup- Calisthenics, bending, arm waving, and pushups on the steep board.

Three sets of 12 of the following, jump setted, with a minute between sets:
Military Press
Curls

Three sets of 12 of the following, jump setted, with a minute between sets:
Bent-over Row 

Bench Press

Squat- 1-3 x 12

Stiff-Legged Deadlifts- 3 x 12-15

There were no chairs in the Jones gym because he never fucking sat down during a workout- he was no shiftless layabout.  In addition to the above, there was a ton of weighted ab work, weighted hill sprints and hikes, cycling, climbing, and whatever else he wanted to do. 

So there you have it- Maurice Jones, a man who lived and died so badass he likely never gave a fuck how close he was to a world record in the squat, because he'd rather rockclimb anyway.  There are a ton of lessons to be learned from the man's life- Jones was only limited by time and his imagination, he didn't give a fuck about records because he was all about the journey rather than the destination, and he didn't let shit stand in his way, be it age, injuries, or anything else.  Clearly, he was onto something.


... and if that shit wasn't enough to get your ass into the gym tonight, check out this 69 year old who managed to build a better physique than anyone I know under a Communist regime and still chumps the lot of us going into his seventh decade of life.



Sources:

Baptiste, Walt.  Maurice Jones, Canadian Hercules (1941).  The Tight Tan Slacks of Dezso Ban.  11 Dec 2010.  Web.  10 Jul 2018.  http://ditillo2.blogspot.com/2010/12/maurice-jones-canadian-hercules-by-walt.html

Maurice Jones the Canadian Hercules workout routine.  Rippeder.  Web.  28 Nov 2018.  http://rippeder.com/content/maurice-jones-canadian-hercules-workout-routine

McCallum, John.  Running.  Reprinted from Strength and Health Jan 1968.  Tight Tan Slacks of Dezso Ban.  10 Aug 2017.  Web.  10 Jul 2018.  http://ditillo2.blogspot.com/2017/08/running-john-mccallum-1968.html

Strossen, Randall.  Maurice Jones: muscles, mountains and the man.
Milo. Mar 1997 4(4)9-12.

10 December 2018

How Can You Save Me If You Can't Save Yourselves? Part 2.

In the first part of this bit of wild-eyed polemic, I explained that the evidence-based coaches in the strength training community are, almost to a person, liars who resemble in many ways the idiots and psychotics who espouse the Flat Earth theory.  The issue, however, goes deeper than conspiracies, however.  The theoreticians behind the studies utilized by evidence-based training aren't eminent lifters, nor are they wild-eyed optimists with the goal of advancing the human condition- they are shills paid to promote the degenerate goals of the cabal of coaches seeking to limit the potential of neophyte lifters to validate their weaksauce training methods and excuse the lack of results they produce.  Whereas the power of belief, the lack of mental limits on performance and growth, or the innate desire to achieve led us in the past to utilize training methodologies that essentially amounted to "if you believe in it, it will work," lifters now wait for "clinical evidence" to put a training method to the test rather than opening their fucking eyes and taking what is happening before them as proof of concept.  The insanity and weakness driving that mentality is fucking staggering, yet most strength sports "athletes" (Crossfit and strongmen being obvious exceptions, because those motherfuckers are hellbent on superhumanity) take that shit as gospel.


"The whole machinery of the state, in all different countries, is turned on to making defenseless children believe absurd propositions the effect of which is to make them willing to die in defense of sinister interests under the impression that they are fighting for truth and right.  This is only one of the countless ways in which education is designed, not to give true knowledge, but to make people pliable to the will of their masters."
-Bertrand Russell

That's right- it is a goddamned cabal of people who have no business discussing strength manipulating people who don't know better into believing they're preordained to be weak, then tricking them into the belief that the degrees they have validate their bullshit training methods, which are designed for weak people by weak people to induce very marginal gains to ensure a never-ending income stream. And if the above quote doesn't make you want to hang one of those pussy-ass poser coaches from the nearest fucking lamppost, you are officially dead inside.  The bullshit adage "those who cannot do, teach," is even less valid when it comes to strength and nutrition, because if they could truly turn anyone into a serious athlete, they likely would have started with themselves.  Thus, if they cannot do, they have absolutely no fucking business teaching.


Would you take advice about street racing from a guy whose parents bought him a Ferrari or the paraplegic who built his own rat rod from the ground up?

And as to their degrees, granted from institutions of purported higher learning who are willing to have their name attached to these charlatans- they're no more meaningful than the EliteFTS shirt you have in your dresser.  Does the fact they allowed you to purchase their shit mean they endorse your lifting and the beliefs you espouse?  Of course not, and the degrees for which these bullshit artist coaches have paid are similarly meaningless.  As Arthur Schopenhauer said:
"Ordinary folk have a deep respect for professional men of every kind.  They are unaware that a man who makes a profession of a thing loves it not for the thing itself, but for the money he makes by it; or that it is rare for a man who teaches to know his subject thoroughly; for if he studies as he ought, he in most cases has no time to teach it."
In this case, studying would almost entirely consist of actual lifting, and Schopenhauer sums up my myriad issues with these pink-bitch, half-assed, witch doctor coaches who are nothing but money hungry pussies with perpetuating the weakness of others at the forefront of their minds.  Shit, even when they succeed in making someone super strong, it is purely by accident, as the goal of their coaching is not the success of their lifters but the propagation of their system.  As such, they don't use logic to create their methodology- their method is eristic.  The form of the conclusion is correct, but the premises by which the conclusion is drawn are untrue, because victory in the form of sales is their sole goal.



Pissed off yet?  You should be, because these coaches, reliant on tiny studies and the broad conclusions drawn from them, are fakes.  Impostors.  Posers.  Ersatz rather than genuine.  They're like Danielson at the beginning of the Karate Kid who thought he could fight after doing the exercises in those (awesome as fuck, and I owned dozens) of ridiculous karate how-to books.  Imitation might be the greatest form of flattery, but in this case it's just disgusting.  They're like shaved monkeys pretending to be insurance salesmen, masquerading as logical while ignoring established anecdotal fact to promote their completely illogical agendas.  Their popularity, which many hold as proof of the veracity of their claims, proves nothing more than the fact that people have been lied to so much that at this point they'll believe any bullshit spouted by a limp dick in a labcoat.

Somehow, Ernest Cadine managed to transcend his natty genetic limits and trash everyone in Olympic weightlifting all without the help of science.  At 5'6" he competed at 181lbs and pulled a right hand axle deadlift of 367lbsBullshit artists like Lyle McDonald, Marc Perry, and Martin Berkham claim this to be impossible, yet it happened.  

It's not even that I have anything against the concept of evidence based training, but the reality is that the scientists conducting the studies have inherent bias before beginning them and utilize them in a manner that allows them to prove faulty theories.  Even if that weren't the case, their findings are in no way commensurate with the practical, hands-on knowledge in strength sports that has been compiled and refined over the history of human existence.  Hell, it's not just strength sports- wouldn't you rather take advice on building furniture from a well respected carpenter or on fixing your car from an actual mechanic?  Not the guys who read books about doing the shit and never successfully did either thing themselves, but the guys who have the practical, hands-on knowledge in going it?  Would you want sex tips from a virgin with a PhD in human sexuality or a prostitute?  For whatever reason, that sort of question is never raised in strength sports, and it should be.  People are metaphorically putting their kids in a daycare run by child molesting serial killers and happily overpaying for the service, and this shit has got to come to an end, because you're better off trying to get to the moon in a rocket built by a Flat Earther than you are trying to get insanely strong and jacked using the methods of one of these evidence based asshats.

The glute guy, Bret Contreras, can coach you to a ridiculously subpar squat (my man squatted a hilariously low 424lbs at 242lbs as a self-proclaimed authority on the muscle group responsible for big squats) for the low, low price of $120 a month!  For some perspective, my ex wife squatted 350 for a double at 135, beltless, and didn't think her lifts were in any way noteworthy... and Brett wrote a whole article excusing his shitty performance with genetics.  Surprise!

 For my money, it's far more embarrassing to pay a poser for bad lifting advice than it would be for a suburbanite to take a trap out on a date that would end up in sex.  Worst case there, you were fooled by solid makeup skills and overpowered by your dick, whereas paying a fake-ass authority on strength like Contreras means you're weak, stupid, out a chunk of money, and unfucked... and if you would rather be branded stupid and weak than bisexual, I've no fucking idea how you even found this site.

Whoops.  Well, I already have my pants off anyway, so...

In closing, the evidence/science/empirically-based training movement is a devious, illogical, close-minded, pretentious, and ultimately psychotic (in that the people perpetuating it are shallow and useless to the point of being mentally imbalanced) money grab that should be met with violent reprisals.  The movement has ripped the soul out of two strength sports and is draining the life out of a culture that used to be about positivity (not the idiotic touchy-feely disingenuous bullshit you see in IG comments and hashtags, but rather the genuine communal desire for everyone to get bigger, better, and more jacked), because it is bereft of imagination, joy, aggression, and art.  Yeah, art.  Strength training is as much, if not more, art than science, and anyone who disputes this fact is either an idiot or a liar (the exceptions  to this rule are again Greg Nuckols and Mike Tuscherer.  Nevertheless, I contend they succeed in spite of, rather than because of, their methods).  Your body is not a Betty Crocker Easy Bake oven that you can construct following step by step instructions, nor is your deadlift a cake you can follow a recipe to bake to perfection. 


The Soviet system didn't produce beasts like Rigert and Alexeev- it just benefited from their existence.  The rules and programs did not apply to guys like Rigert and Alexeev, who were allowed to train as they would.

It's time to take back our fucking scene and drive these false prophets of the false god of science the fuck out of strength sports.  Their methodology and attitude is destroying weight lifting culture- replacing the zest for life with banality, the camaraderie with attention whoring on the internet, and the desire to transcend the human condition with a solemn vow to wallow in it.   For those of you who feel like you want a coach, check out this great video lecture on the subject of picking a coach by Jay Nera, who is both a great lifter and a really good guy, or just ask yourself two questions when choosing one- "what have they done?" and "who have they coached?"  If the answer to either is nothing or no one, find someone else, or just fucking figure it out for yourself.  Picking shit up and putting it down is not all that fucking hard- if you suck at it, you're either overthinking it or not trying hard enough.

And to all of those "coaches" whose butts were hurt by this series, feel free to step up to keep your fucking rep up.  Till then,
TALK TO THE FIST AND REST IN PISS.

06 December 2018

How Can You Save Me If You Can't Save Yourselves? Part One: 'Evidence-Based' Training Is The Strength World's Flat Earth Theory

"Vexation is the attitude of the individual as intelligence towards the check imposed upon repressing the violence of will- in other words, by virtue; or by keeping the intelligence from dwelling upon the check- in other words, by stoicism."
-Arthur Schopenhauer



Given the fact I coined the phrase "Violence over Virtue" and printed it on t-shirts long before reading Schopenhauer's "Essay on Controversy," and the fact I have long considered the Stoics to be the most chickenshit bunch of faux tough guys this side of Redditors, I find myself invariably and unceasingly vexed.  Nowhere do I find myself more often vexed than when faced with the prospect of slapping down some pseudointellectual, pseudostrength athlete on the subject of science-based strength training and nutrition because it is akin to challenging a Young Earther who insists dinosaurs and humans coexisted on Earth in the last ten thousand years.  Both belief systems are so inherently and irrevocably flawed, yet so violently, ignorantly, and dogmatically defended that rational discussion is impossible.  Hilariously, both groups cite logic, reason, and "fact" as the basis for their belief systems, yet neither group possesses a modicum of the intellect or knowledge necessary to understand the idiocy of their arguments, and furthermore lack the requisite grasp of rhetoric to either win a debate on the subject or realize how utterly specious their claims are.




How lucky, then, that I'd reread Aristotle and Schopenhauer recently, and love handing out verbal curb stomps more than Proud Boys and Trump supporters love to fantasize about having penises, the physiques of adult male humans, and handing out real curb stomps at Antifa protests!



Behold the Great Leveller.  I live my life as an outcast, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I've always been an outsider in my own proverbial country- my writing style is considered (bizarrely to myself and anyone who knows me personally) as satirical, my diet hyper-extreme, my workout volume nigh on impossible, and in an industry where success is almost always measured by one's social circle I have none, yet I have success.   Given the fact that I have been an inveterate meathead since the mid-Nineties, I have a unique perspective- I am now so deep inside lifting culture that I've tunnelled my way under and out of it, and I am now so disassociated with a community in which I should be steeped like an abattoir in blood that my life's work seems slightly gross from the taint the current incarnation of the lifting community has brought upon it.  So, without going off on strength coaches in general, who hold their jumped-up Phys Ed degrees overhead while screaming overly complex jargon that belies their total lack of understanding of strength science (because if you cannot explain it easily to a child, you don't fucking understand it), I'll simply put the "evidence based" coaches on blast.  Fuck it- if I cannot put them before an actual firing squad for the potentially irrevocable damage they have done to the lifting community as a whole, I might as well metaphorically gun them down in an effort to take back our fucking scene from the pussies currently flooding it.



Actually, fuck that- a firing squad is too good for these self-righteous, lying shitslugs.  If we're going to take back our scene, we need to make examples, not corpses.

Extreme?  Perhaps, unless you consider the fact that lifters are by and large getting weaker as they get more closeminded, all while professing to be enlightened and correct.  Part of the problem lies in the fact that the people promulgating evidence-or-science based training have degrees that seem to legitimize their opinions on strength training and nutrition, but in reality they are simply posers hiding behind obtuse verbiage intended to mystify the laymen to the point that they appear as authorities.  This trick is nothing new- it explains the rituals and mystique of witch doctors and shamans, and the reason Catholic priests held services in a long dead language.  It's also why channers and the dickless retards who ape them vomit idiot-speak non-words all over the internet- the utilization of their "in crowd" lexicon gives them a sense of belonging and superiority so spurious and hollow that it shatters like Anderson Silva's shinbone the moment they step away from their computer into the real world.




Renowned German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer aptly described the aforementioned style of controversial dialectic (the art of disputation that allows one to hold their own in a debate over an assertion for which there may be many proofs) as sophistic.  The fact that Sophists basically run our scene is more than enough justification for a widespread purge, because their method is the method to use when the person defending it knows their conclusion is false, although it seems correct at a cursory glance.  A Sophist disgustingly looks to the reputation and money they'll gain by promoting a falsehood rather than using a priori or a postiori logic to arrive at the correct answer and promote that.  Not unlike the progenitor of the Flat Earth Theory, Samuel Rowbotham (who did not actually believe the world was flat- he just needed the money his lectures brought in to support his ridiculous number of children), science-based exercise "scientists" sell their souls for money and lead people to an easy untruth to provide a salve to their bruised egos.  "Science-based" training is nothing more than shitty training methodologies rooted in a conspiracy theory, only rather than blaming the Rosicrucians or shapeshifting alien lizards, the science-based community blames steroids for all super-strength and all fantastic physiques. 


Think I'm off base?

"Though imagining shadowy cabals behind every corner might seem scary, conspiracy theories also seem to offer believers the promise of control in the form of knowledge and insight that others lack, Douglas said. 
'You have a need for security and control, and you don't have it, she said, 'so you try to compensate for it. 
Finally, conspiracy theories can give believers a self-esteem boost and allow them to feel good about the groups they belong to. Some studies suggest narcissism and conspiracy belief are linked, Douglas said, and many conspiracies divide the world into "good guys" (e.g., the moral YouTube star setting out to find the truth) and "bad guys" (e.g., the government, or a given ethnic group)" (Pappas).
... by harnessing the full magical power of steroids.

The natty and evidence-based movements go hand in hand, and they vilify users of various performance enhancing drugs as "cheats," then claim that anyone who falls outside of the acceptable range of performance must be a user of those drugs (the list of which changes daily).  This, then, justifies the lack of progress that the adherents to these belief systems have had, and provides them which their desired self esteem boost.  Rather than blaming their methods and efforts for average gains and performance, evidence-based natty bros blame the raw material of their biology and genetics- their insertion placement and physical structure, their metabolism, their fat deposition, or anything other than themselves and their shitty coaches. 

"Unfortunately, once a conspiracy belief is established, it's hard to change, said Swami; people tend to hold on to their beliefs. Arguments and discussions only tend to entrench those beliefs, as people tend to engage in what's called "psychological reactance," Swami said, spending time honing their own arguments and convincing themselves even further of their own rightness" (Pappas).
Frankly, we don't have to stop the conspiracy- we can just watch that fad die and hope the people promoting it die with them, in a vast conflagration that engulfs the weak of mind, body, and spirit.  Or we can just crash one of their conferences and beat them to death with weights they could never hope to lift.  Whichever works.  Frankly, we should start with Lyle McDonald and his fans, as that lazy former dickrider of Dan Duchaine, who came on the scene completing that man's work after his death, has now turned his back on all of his former research and position (and in doing so fully spitting in the face of the man who put him on the map in the first place) in the quest for the almighty dollar.  Being that McDonald has done nothing and coached no one, he realized his utter lack of credentials place him in the perfect position to coach the uncoachable natty shitbirds of the internet, since the fact that they grew up without Choose Your Own Adventure books left them wholly incapable of separating fact from fiction and choosing between similar options and they want to be told they're special and everything is going to be alright because everyone who outperforms them is a "cheater."  Yeah, well, that dog just won't fucking hunt... but these idiots are so weak, slow, and stupid that hunting them is easier than hunting the dodo, and given that McDonald is an apparently violent autist, starting with him is simply doing the world a service before he angrily drives his parents' car into a crowd of people because he can't get laid.


Dan Duchaine would likely be thinking this is a fitting end for little Lyle, because that pussy motherfucker stabbed a far better man's corpse in the fucking back.

If you're shocked, don't be- this shit should have happened a long time ago.  I'm not just some dark-souled avenger who's decided to descend upon a community of hapless, pious hypocrites in a random feat of rage- I'm a pure, ferocious product of a culture that has been usurped by know-nothing, bitch-made pussies in capri pants who have every fucking bit of this vitriol coming to them.  And the reason for this vitriol is simple- anyone who started training prior to the advent of the internet is very well aware that sports science is decades behind the bro knowledge you'll find in the gym, and anyone with a modicum of sense and the ability to look impartially at the two will note that this is obvious.  Immediately obvious.  Even beyond that, for millennia gym bros have been doing what sport scientists claim is impossible for drug free athletes- for instance, Greek trireme rowers routinely outperformed the efforts of our most elite modern rowers (our elite can only row 70% as fast), and both sumo and Indian pehwani easily exceed and have exceeded for hundreds of years the lean body mass of modern drug free bodybuilders, and how it seems from my observation that practically everyone who has ever lifted weights seriously has outperformed the skinny dipshits in their fancy workout gear following "evidence-based" programs (Pain)... 




Ah, how I love fisting these motherfuckers with the long arm of truth.

Which leads me to wonder how they expect to save anyone from weakness if they cannot save themselves?  Shit, they can't even save themselves from the logical fallacy that their systems are based on studies so limited in scope that they're statistically insignificant, whereas "bro-science" is based on literally hundreds of years of observational evidence.  As such, the statements made by "eminent" authors who should be teaching fucking kickball to snot covered toddlers rather than bloviating about their bullshit, "science-based" training theories are ad rem false- their propositions are not in accordance with the nature of things.  They claim that the innumerable examples one might provide are either outliers, the produce of science experiments of ancient aliens, pure fiction, evil, nefarious drug users, or other assorted poppycock, simply because the existence of those things doesn't fit their belief system.  



If Brando had lived to see the evidence-based training bullshit of the internet, he would have laughed his fucking ass off rereading his own quote, because it was incredibly apt.

Funny how that is in no way scientific, eh?  And I have just begun, people- more reasons to pelt those evidence-based faux coaches with brickbats coming soon.  The exceptions to this polemic are Greg Nuckols and Mike Tuscherer, who if not captivating writers can actually move weight and read- if I had to guess, their similar methods suit their Spock-like temperaments, which allows him to succeed in ways few can.


Sources:
Pain, Stephanie.  When men were gods.  The New Scientist.  7 Feb 2007.  Web.  6 Dec 2018.  https://www.newscientist.com/article/mg19325902-200-histories-when-men-were-gods/

Pappas, Stephanie.  Flat Earth: What fuels the internet's strangest conspiracy theory?  LiveScience.  5 Feb 2018.  Web.  30 Nov 2018.  https://www.livescience.com/61655-flat-earth-conspiracy-theory.html

04 December 2018

Feast, Famine, And Ferocity Diet, Part 3- And Now We FEAST

"Feasting, loosely defined as the public consumption of an elaborate meal often accompanied by entertainment, is a feature of most ancient and modern societies. Hayden and Villeneuve recently defined feasting as 'any sharing of special food (in quality, preparation or quantity) by two or more people for a special (not everyday) event'" (Hirst).

Certainly a couple of weeks of protein sparing modified fasting qualifies as a special event, and not just because eating anything at the end of a fortnight of hunger will be glorious- at this point, your body is wringing every last bit of nutrition out of every calorie you consume, and your metabolism is a ravening beast straining at the chains that bind it.  Well, now is the time to throw off those chains and write an ode of sweat and blood on the floor of your gym.  




Tradition dictates that a major feast would last about two weeks in pre-Christian western societies, and during those times there would be a hell of a lot of partying and a hell of a lot of eating in addition to epic feats of strength and athletic competition.  Will their bellies full of meat and booze, people would decide that they needed to prove who was the biggest badass in the room, and they would set out to do so.  Whether this meant seeing how far they could carry a ship's mast, lift heavy stones, wrestle, race, or even do crazy-ass weighted situps like the Indians do when they're not chugging ghee, that meant there were more varied and impressive feats of strength than you would find on Festivus in the Costanza house.  As such, it is time to seriously get your lift on.




Before you get down to the business of chumping your friends in the gym and generally acting like the most vicious iron warlord in history, displaying strength that causes grown men to weep and fertile women to conceive simply from being in your presence, you've gotta eat.  In a stark departure from what you're used to, what you eat here matters far less than how much you eat.  That's right- after you hit your body's protein requirements, the macronutrient profile of what you're eating isn't precisely insignificant, but matters less than you would think (Rozenek).  This might explain, then, why Senegalese and Indian wrestlers are far more muscular than the macronutrient profile breakdown of their diets might indicate. 



That level of muscularity on a guy who's never seen a gym and never had a protein shake makes me wonder what in the fuck I have been doing with my life.  

Like sumo, who if you've forgotten carry more natty muscle than gassed up pro bodybuilders,  and Indian pehlwani, Senegalese laamb fighters focus more on carbohydrates than protein when they're making meals (Men's Health), which cuts down on the cost of bulking and makes the experience a bit easier from an eating perspective as well.  Now that science has finally caught up to the reality in which we've already been living, perhaps the internet will finally take notice- getting big and lifting big requires eating big.  And if you're worried about getting a little fat, don't- even people in studies who don't lift and shovel down enough food at the Chinese buffet to make it look like they were setting up for the Gluttony death in Se7en 2 have weight gain that is at worst equal amounts of fat and muscle and often a 2:1 ratio of muscle to fat (Forbes, Jebb).  This is due to marked increases in IGF-1, testosterone, and insulin, all of which mean fucking gainz.  




The Feast Diet (4 weeks)

  • Multiply your bodyweight by 20 for total daily calories (if you're feeling like you want to go seriously big, go with 25 calories.  Halfthor goes with a minimum of 27)
  • Ensure at least 35% of your calories are protein
  • Eat whatever the fuck you want thereafter
There is nothing magical going on here- the weight of the human experience supports the idea that you're going to pack on mass like you're getting ready to stand in for the Hulk in the next Avengers flick.  Bear in mind when you're making food choices that not all macros are created equal.  I'm not suggesting you need to eat like a 1990's bodybuilder and just shovel down boatloads of brown rice and boiled chicken, but know for a certainty that 1000 calories of candy corn will likely not yield the same metabolic advantages of, say, a diet of human livers and blood sausage.  Use your fucking head here, and remember that the guys around the world who are jacked as hell without the benefit of modern training aids and refrigeration got that way mostly using the power of stew.  Icelandic strongmen still use it, as do the aforementioned Senegalese wrestlers, Indian wrestlers, and sumo, and they all credit stews for their heavy musculature and freakish strength.


In addition to stone lifting, the Tahitians actually compete yearly in a fruit carrying race.  No, I am not making this up- a 2km foot race carrying 30kg of fruit.  Given that they only thing kids are competing in these days is fucking Fortnite, a fruit race wearing a skirt and a garland of leaves seems insanely badass.

Polynesians also eat a hell of a lot of stew in the form of fafa, and they're some of the largest and most terrifying people on the planet.  Though their fafa is cooked in a badass underground oven called a hima'a, fafa is so easy to make on the stove I feel like I'm going to develop a sick tan and grow six inches just from reading the recipe.




Tahitian Chicken Fafa (Source)

Ingredients (4 servings)
  • 1 tablespoon butter
  • 1/4 cup chopped onion
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 cup coconut milk
  • 2 cups water
  • 1 1/2 cups uncooked long grain white rice
  • 1 pound skinless, boneless chicken breast halves - cut into 1 inch pieces
  • 1 (10 ounce) package frozen chopped spinach, thawed and drained
  • 1/3 cup shredded coconut
Directions (and holy hell is this easy to make):
  • In a large, deep skillet over medium-high heat, melt the butter. Stir in the onion and garlic, and cook 2 minutes. 
  • Mix in the coconut milk, water, rice, and chicken, and bring to a boil. 
  • Reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer 20 minutes, until rice is tender and chicken juices run clear.
  • Stir the spinach into the skillet, and cook just until heated through. 
  • Sprinkle with coconut, and serve.
Nutrition
Per Serving: 599 calories; 23.2 g fat; 66.2 g carbohydrates; 32.1 g protein.

Dunno about you guys, but I would like to live in a place that had random stone lifting competitions for shits and giggles.  No fucking participation trophy, no membership cards, no nonsense- just a few people who wanted to see who could pick up the heaviest rock and then eat like they escaped a concentration camp.

And this next recipe doesn't really have any cool origin beyond the fact that I absolutely love smoked meats and keep my smoker popping all the time.  If you have any interest in quick and easy smoked meats, there is no shame whatsoever in owning an electric smoker- they're quick, easier to operate than half of the microwaves on the planet, and they make smoked fucking meats.  There is really only one reason not to have one, and that is just sucking worse than anyone ever has... or you live in an apartment with no balcony.  There is no fire, so rules against grills don't apply.  


Barbecue is pretty much ubiquitous across the world, but the US definitely has a culture of smoking meats that exists nowhere else in the world.  Because other countries don't smoke meat as much, or you might not have a smoker, or you're just lazy, I've got a couple of ways to do this recipe, including one with a biscuit topping (which is banging) and one that is a shepherd's pie.  However you make this fucking thing, it will both taste amazing and put meat on your bones.  



Pulled Pork Pot Pie (not sure of the source- I saved this awhile ago)

Pulled Pork

You've got three options: 
  1. Drop 3 lbs of pork shoulder in a crock pot for 8 hours with 1/2 a bottle of your favorite BBQ sauce (I combine a shitload of Dave's Insanity sauce and Whole Foods 365 Texas barbecue sauce).
  2. Rub 3 lbs of pork shoulder with spicy mustard, then coat generously with Bad Byron's Butt Rub and pop it in the smoker at 225 degrees for 6 hours (2 hours per pound).  The meat's internal temp should be between 195 and 201 degrees (hotter for softer pork).  Then pull the meat and add sauce if you want.
  3. Make the pork in the oven.  
Crust
The easy way:  buy pie dough from the store.

The less easy way (which really isn't hard, and being able to make a banging pie crust will definitely come in handy at some point in your life):
  • 1 1/4 c flour
  • 1/2 t salt
  • 1/2 c cold butter, cubed
  • 1/4 c ice water
Mix flour and salt. Cut in butter with a pastry knife (or fork if you don't have one) until the texture of rice. Add ice water one teaspoon at a time, mixing until a stiff dough forms. Roll that into a ball and smash between two layers of saran wrap. Place that in the freezer for four hours. This makes a top crust only. Double recipe for two crusts, freezing two balls of dough. When chilled, roll out pie crust between the saran wrap layers, to fit the pie pan.

Pie Filling

  • 1 can each of corn and peas, drained
  • 2 carrots, peeled and sliced thin
  • 2 potatoes microwaved for four minutes, diced
  • 1 packet chicken gravy
  • 1 1/4 lb of your pulled pork
When cooking gravy mix, add carrots to the pan to soften in hot gravy. If making double crusts, line pie pan with one crust. Layer filling ingredients in pan, pour gravy over top. Top pie with the second crust, pressing the edges onto pan (or bottom crust) to seal edges and prevent leaking. Cut steam vents in top crust. Bake on a cookie pan to catch leaks at 425 degrees F for 45 minutes, or until the crust is golden brown.

To top with biscuits, use Pillsbury's recipe.

To make as a Shepherd's Pie, go here.


Any way you make that, the result is going to be a fuckload of quality calories that taste amazing and travel well.


Not only did Rory Leidelmeyer like to hang dong in the gym in broad daylight, but he ate 7000-8000 calories a day to fuel his heavy-as-a fat-broad-facesitting-a-midget workouts.

The Feast Program (4 weeks)

The logic here is simple- you're going to lift so heavy and brutally that if you were participating in an orgy filled with obese people at an Acacia Strain concert, you'd... I have no idea where I was going with that.  The first exercise in every workout is all about strength, and the remainder is about hypertrophy.  As everyone already knows, both are getting worked all the time, but the primary focus is maximal strength and then hypertrophy, respectively.   As with the Famine workout, if you have something you'd rather try, have at it- this shit isn't set in stone.  Hell, if you want to tackle Eddie Hall's 13.5 hour a week insanity, be my guest- you'll never know how your body will respond unless you try it, no matter what the 150lb pussies on your favorite website of choice for pointless discussion of training techniques is.

You'll notice there are no loading protocols because you're expected not to be a fucking pussy for a few weeks.  Go heavy as shit.  Take whatever rest period you need to attack the next set.




Day 1
1/2 Squats- 12 x 2 (10 second holds at the top of the rep) (apparently the internet calls these Anderson squats now)
Wide Stance Good Mornings- 3 x 6 (go heavy on these to bring up your glutes and hams)
Hamstring Curls- 5 x 10-15
Calf Raises- 4 x 50
Pullups / Chinups- 5 x max

Day 2

Bench Press / Floor Press- 10 x 2; 2 x AMRAP with 60% of your work set weight and a wider grip) 
Weighted Dips- 4 x 6
Unweighted Dips- 2 x AMRAP
Military Press- 5 x 12 (do these reps short and fast.  You're not locking out on them, but keeping constant tension on the muscles and firing them off as quickly as possible)
Superset of Rope Pushdowns and Overhead Extensions- 5 sets with the weight you would use for sets of 12 on pushdowns and do AMRAP on both.


If that doesn't get your ass to the gym on the regular, nothing will.  

Day 3

Pull- 10 x 2 (I don't care if these are high pulls, deadlifts, hex bar deads, rack pulls, or whatever.  The what doesn't matter so much as the why, and the why is because heavy pulls are the reason you have arms and hands)
Bent-Over Rows- 6 x 6 (again, the style you use matters not at all- the effort you put in does)
Face Pulls / Bent Over Laterals- 4 x 20 (the key here is working
Hammer Curls- 4 x 6
Barbell Curls- 3 x 25 (Go light and get a huge pump.  Bodybuilders do this shit for a reason)

Day 4
Optional fill-in day.  Use this for whatever you want to jam into the workout that's not already in there.  Bodyparts you want to bring up, pet lifts on which you want more work, etc.  For me, this is always shoulders and arms, because neither can ever be too big (short of the synthol retards, who should be gassed and their corpses should be used to poison the IG broads filling their faces with the whore version of synthol, Juvederm).

Or use it as an off day if you need one.  Let your conscience be your guide, slacker.



Jose Raymond, who has some of the sickest legs in bodybuilding, can rep 405 for 10 on the front squat pre-contest and has squatted 700 in the gym, had this to say about why he focuses on he doesn't go as heavy anymore, and it wasn't injuries: "Back in the day it was all about how much weight I could lift and for how many reps. That’s how I built the mass, but now what I need is a lot more separation and detail." 
In short, he was just getting too goddamn big from going crazy heavy.

Day 5
Front Squat / Back Squat- 6 x 3; 1 x AMRAP with 60% of your work weight
Hamstring Curl- Same rep scheme as the squatting, but with 2 AMRAP sets
Calf Raise- 8 x 6
Shrugs- 10 x 3 with at least 125% or your 1RM on deadlifts.  No more bitch weights on shrugs.
Curl- 5 x 10 (Dealer's choice on the exercise- just do some kind of curl.  Get a good pump.)

Day 6

Strict Military Press / Push Press- 8 x 2
Klokov Press- 5 x 10
Incline Bench Press- 5 x 5
Close Grip Bench Press- 4 x 6
Skullcrushers- 1 x 10, 8, 6, 4, 2, 2, AMRAP (with the weight you originally used for 10)

Day 7

Off



So there you have it- the Feast, Famine, and Ferocity Diet.  Two weeks of rather unpleasant but productive protein sparing modified fasts and workouts designed to burn the fat fat off you like the skin off Germans being firebombed in Dresden followed by a month of eating like your gainz depend on it and training like a Tookie Williams on some badass PCP.  The net result will be net fat loss and net muscle gain, all in a timespan that the internet will claim is entirely unrealistic and the result of steroids because they're jealous as fuck and essentially useless.  And even better yet, you can repeat this cycle as many or as few times as you like, depending on what you're trying to accomplish, so you can drop this in as a quick six week shake-up or a six month bulk that will lean you out.  Either way, like Parker Lewis, you can't fucking lose.

Sources:

Forbes GB, Brown MR, Welle SL, Underwood LE.  Hormonal response to overfeeding.  Am J Clin Nutr. 1989 Apr;49(4):608-11.

Hirst, K. Kris.  Feasting: The Archaeology and History of Celebrating Food.  ThoughtCo.  1 Oct 2018.  Web.  3 Dec 2018.  https://www.thoughtco.com/feasting-archaeology-and-history-170940


Jebb SA, Prentice AM, Goldberg GR, Murgatroyd PR, Black AE, Coward WA.  Changes in macronutrient balance during over- and underfeeding assessed by 12-d continuous whole-body calorimetry.  Am J Clin Nutr. 1996 Sep;64(3):259-66.


Rozenek R, Ward P, Long S, Garhammer J.  Effects of high-calorie supplements on body composition and muscular strength following resistance training.  J Sports Med Phys Fitness. 2002 Sep;42(3):340-7.


Senegalese wrestlers: stars made from fighting spirit and mysticism.  Men's Health UK.  7 Sep 2018.  Web.  3 Dec 2018.  http://www.menshealth.co.uk/fitness/senegalese-wrestlers-stars-made-from-fighting-spirit-and-mysticism