Do you want to know how to really piss me off? There are a number of ways to accomplish this worthy goal. For instance, you could e-mail me a petty complaint about yesterday’s midterm, sending it when I am surrounded by 90 hideously unmarked exam booklets, trembling with uncertainty while pondering that recurring question: Should I grade these exams, or jump off the High Level Bridge instead? Continue reading
A wave of hot shame washes over me as I write this, even though it happened a week ago. I never thought that I would stoop so low. Other people give in to carnal urges, begging for forgiveness later on Dr. Phil, but not me. My shame begins to spiral as I confess this second egregious sin: I regularly watch the bald one pontificate while eating small chunks of chicken during afternoon breaks from writing. But you are not interested in my smutty TV habits, are you? I imagine that you kind and gentle readers want details—lurid, excruciating details—about the nastiness I did with my fallen body. I’m not one to be squeamishly reticent (though I am one to use a thesaurus), so here they are…
I cheated. After being steadfastly committed for so long, I finally strayed. Just once, well maybe three times, or was it six? I’m not sure how these things are counted. Here’s the long and short of it: I gave in to forbidden love. It was exhilarating, physically and mentally, but of course it could not last. Now it is over and I am left with regrets and recrimination. So…deep breath…okay. It happened in the kitchen, last Sunday afternoon. Unable to control myself, I grabbed what I wanted, hoisted myself onto the countertop, and put tempting slabs of energy into a warm, narrow slot. Do I need to paint a picture?
Yesterday I remembered why I am a gym rat. While training quads with DYT, I was focused and determined; sweat dripped from my curly long hair, muscle spasms engulfed my legs, dizziness filled my head and chest. Fuck yeah, it was like old days and god how I missed them. My 3-hours-each-day precompetition training is often easier than before because I now need to get smaller, targeting my shoulder caps with volume instead of weight, and replacing muscle growth with fat loss. Rather than grunt my way to failure, I regularly do half-way chin ups that engage lats while mostly avoiding my hulking traps. Continue reading
I am not referring to tbe pre-competition need for laxatives, when bodybuilders consume 400 grams of chicken per day, without accompanying carbs or fibre. I mean that there is no bullshit, no faking it, when athletes stand on stage practically naked. Every flaw, every oversized trap, is out there for all to see. Both judges and trained members of the audience know that your strangely swollen belly—GH gut—was caused by hormone overuse, expanding your organs along with your muscles. We see traces of cellulite that cannot be fully disguised by Pro Tan. Even if the extra skin hanging from your newly Continue reading
One of my favourite books—I have read it about ten times—is Michel Foucault’s, The History of Sexuality: An Introduction. Just when I thought I was ready to move on to Maurice Merleau-Ponty, just when I thought I was out, Foucault pulled me back in. Oh great Saint F, please forgive me for the sin of almost forsaking you and for all the sins I am about to commit. What’s that you say, my haloed master? You command me to go forward in peace and sin some more? You urge me to don a tight leather mask and wrist restraints? Really, oh blessed bald one? What if I also attach a chained lodestone to my body, and hang limply from an overhead bar, feeling the cartilage stretch between my vertebrae? In other words, what if I do weighted wide grip chin-ups because I think they would similarly reconfigure my body.
According to Foucault: ‘We must not think that by saying yes to sex, one says no to power; on the contrary, one tracks along the course laid out by the general deployment of sexuality. It is the agency of sex that we must break away from, if we aim—through a tactical reversal of the various mechanisms of sexuality—to counter the grips of power with the claims of bodies, pleasures, and knowledges, in their multiplicity and their possibilities of resistance.’ Oh yeah. Though the late Foucault recommended S and M practices as one way to accomplish this ‘tactical reversal,’ I think that bodybuilding is another way. Continue reading
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