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    All Martial Arts are Bullshit

    All martial arts are bullshit.

    Let it sink in.

    Some of you are nodding in agreement. You know what you do is purely for
    entertainment and camaraderie. You hold no illusions about your lack of ability
    to protect you and your loved ones using whatever sport-fu you've devoted
    decades of time and thousands of dollars toward. The term sport-fu does not even
    make you angry.

    This post is not for you.

    Some of you are plagued by a tiny demon of uncertainty. A nagging at your soul
    hinting at your impotence. You float through your sepia-toned days thinking,
    "Gee, I hope I never have to use this stuff, but if I do ..." Except the
    dot-dot-dot part never gets filled in. You really think, "I hope I never have to
    use this stuff." Because you know deep down it won't work.

    This post is not for you either. You are on the path to salvation. Your epiphany
    will surface. Each must find his own way.

    "But, but, ... BJJ?!?!?!?" you sputter. Indeed. You are among the most deluded.
    You folks are in the most danger. More than the Krav dorks.

    Pay attention and follow this advice:

    Take the $1,500 you'd spend for a year of crappy martial farts and buy a squat
    rack, a decent bar and as many cheap iron plates you can scrounge from
    craigslist. Then fucking use them.

    Why? Because the barbell doesn't care how badass you think you are. You will
    get instant feedback about how badass you really are. We are all gravity's
    bitch. Nothing is stronger than strength.

    Your cardio kickboxing doesn't mean shit. When your back's to the ground and
    that blade is inching toward your heart you can always get an extra lungful of
    air. You can't ever, ever get that extra pound of strength.

    So, while angel-you is rolling with St. Peter, 'ol Methy will be counting your
    money and raping your girl.

    Here's a true story: My cousin is strong -- retard strong. On his first day as a
    farmhand the bull was acting up. Wouldn't come inside. He walked up to the bull
    and punched him in the face. From that moment onward the bull followed him
    around like a puppy dog.

    What would you do the bull? Krotty chop his nuts? Side-mount his scrotum? All you'd get
    is a face-full of cow DNA. He made a 2,000 lb. bull his bitch by punching him in
    the face!!! That's why being strong is better than your shit martial fart.

    If he wanted your lunch money you'd give it to him. You'd also give him your
    home address so he could go to your house and fuck your mom. Under no
    circumstance would you try to arm-bar him. You'd go limp like a toddler the
    second he put his meaty hand around your throat. Because, your martial fart is
    bullshit.

    Do you need more reasons why all martial farts are bullshit? Done. Let's talk
    about the business of martial farts. There are more charlatans in the martial
    farts industry than at a Herbalife convention.

    Even your local Mom 'n Pop McDojo is a fraud because, as a Marshall Farts
    Instruxor, your products are fear and cognitive dissonance.

    As more people lift weights and get strong, they have less fear and fewer delusions.
    This begets crazy money-grab schemes like affiliations, special weekend seminars,
    and paying for promotions.

    Need more cash? Then make more striped ranks. That way you don't even have to
    buy them a new belt you cheap fuck.
    If you had to pay to move from kindergarten
    to first grade you'd still be a
    crayon-eatin' motherfucker.

    Try going into a dojo and telling them up-front that you plan to never test up.
    Tell them you want to stay a white belt forever because you wanna stay humble.
    Do you think they want a white belt wandering around their dojo kicking the crap
    out of all their black belts? No. Not that it would be that hard from day one
    anyway.

    Don't get me started on Krotty Birthday Parties.

    Since when does the ability to maim and kill with your hands make you qualified
    to host birthday parties for toddlers? Think of it this way: if you can't
    maintain a viable business with just selling the product you've trained for:
    i.e.: your martial arts knowledge, maybe there isn't room in your town for a
    McDojo - or your McDojo. You're an adult making a living entertaining children at
    birthday parties. That makes you a clown. Might as well learn how to make balloon
    nunchucks, Sifu Fizzbo.

    Since movies inform your reality more than, you know, reality maybe you can
    answer me this: In what movie does the scrawny, weaker-than-shit hero learn
    krotty from a strip-mall McDojo. F'ing none. You're living The Karate Kid, but
    you look like Napoleon Dynamite.

    Admit it Daniel-san, you've been looking for Mr. Miyagi all your life. You won't
    find him next to Olive Garden. Especially when you're getting your teeth
    rearranged. He'll be back at the hacienda plunging toilets because, in reality,
    he's just a old putz with a 6th grade education and a bad liver. Not some
    ancient krotty mastuh.

    So, face it. You're a walking lawsuit. You are a liability to your friends and
    family. Your karate-chopping, krav maga'gin, b-j-jobbin fantasy world is no
    match for a violent and determined criminal who wants your fixie.

    No matter how much "aliveness" you put into your training you still live in a
    world of rules designed to protect you.

    The only rules that exist are:
    1) gravity
    2) bigger things eat smaller things.


    Shed your illusions, lift heavy things, and we will all be safer.

    #2
    Originally posted by HarshMallow View Post
    1) gravity
    Judo ftw again!

    Comment


      #3
      I like everything about this thread except for the bull being punched.
      "I'm reluctant to sound like a total fa66ot as well, but my background in sculpture gave me an edge in understanding how we're expected to move thru space." - The Other Other Serge

      Comment


        #4
        Originally posted by Lily View Post
        I like everything about this thread except for the bull being punched.
        Fortunately that's the part that didn't happen

        Comment


          #5
          Originally posted by HarshMallow View Post
          All martial arts are bullshit.

          Let it sink in.

          Some of you are nodding in agreement. You know what you do is purely for
          entertainment and camaraderie. You hold no illusions about your lack of ability
          to protect you and your loved ones using whatever sport-fu you've devoted
          decades of time and thousands of dollars toward. The term sport-fu does not even
          make you angry.

          This post is not for you.

          Some of you are plagued by a tiny demon of uncertainty. A nagging at your soul
          hinting at your impotence. You float through your sepia-toned days thinking,
          "Gee, I hope I never have to use this stuff, but if I do ..." Except the
          dot-dot-dot part never gets filled in. You really think, "I hope I never have to
          use this stuff." Because you know deep down it won't work.

          This post is not for you either. You are on the path to salvation. Your epiphany
          will surface. Each must find his own way.

          "But, but, ... BJJ?!?!?!?" you sputter. Indeed. You are among the most deluded.
          You folks are in the most danger. More than the Krav dorks.

          Pay attention and follow this advice:

          Take the $1,500 you'd spend for a year of crappy martial farts and buy a squat
          rack, a decent bar and as many cheap iron plates you can scrounge from
          craigslist. Then fucking use them.

          Why? Because the barbell doesn't care how badass you think you are. You will
          get instant feedback about how badass you really are. We are all gravity's
          bitch. Nothing is stronger than strength.

          Your cardio kickboxing doesn't mean shit. When your back's to the ground and
          that blade is inching toward your heart you can always get an extra lungful of
          air. You can't ever, ever get that extra pound of strength.

          So, while angel-you is rolling with St. Peter, 'ol Methy will be counting your
          money and raping your girl.

          Here's a true story: My cousin is strong -- retard strong. On his first day as a
          farmhand the bull was acting up. Wouldn't come inside. He walked up to the bull
          and punched him in the face. From that moment onward the bull followed him
          around like a puppy dog.

          What would you do the bull? Krotty chop his nuts? Side-mount his scrotum? All you'd get
          is a face-full of cow DNA. He made a 2,000 lb. bull his bitch by punching him in
          the face!!! That's why being strong is better than your shit martial fart.

          If he wanted your lunch money you'd give it to him. You'd also give him your
          home address so he could go to your house and fuck your mom. Under no
          circumstance would you try to arm-bar him. You'd go limp like a toddler the
          second he put his meaty hand around your throat. Because, your martial fart is
          bullshit.

          Do you need more reasons why all martial farts are bullshit? Done. Let's talk
          about the business of martial farts. There are more charlatans in the martial
          farts industry than at a Herbalife convention.

          Even your local Mom 'n Pop McDojo is a fraud because, as a Marshall Farts
          Instruxor, your products are fear and cognitive dissonance.

          As more people lift weights and get strong, they have less fear and fewer delusions.
          This begets crazy money-grab schemes like affiliations, special weekend seminars,
          and paying for promotions.

          Need more cash? Then make more striped ranks. That way you don't even have to
          buy them a new belt you cheap fuck.
          If you had to pay to move from kindergarten
          to first grade you'd still be a
          crayon-eatin' motherfucker.

          Try going into a dojo and telling them up-front that you plan to never test up.
          Tell them you want to stay a white belt forever because you wanna stay humble.
          Do you think they want a white belt wandering around their dojo kicking the crap
          out of all their black belts? No. Not that it would be that hard from day one
          anyway.

          Don't get me started on Krotty Birthday Parties.

          Since when does the ability to maim and kill with your hands make you qualified
          to host birthday parties for toddlers? Think of it this way: if you can't
          maintain a viable business with just selling the product you've trained for:
          i.e.: your martial arts knowledge, maybe there isn't room in your town for a
          McDojo - or your McDojo. You're an adult making a living entertaining children at
          birthday parties. That makes you a clown. Might as well learn how to make balloon
          nunchucks, Sifu Fizzbo.

          Since movies inform your reality more than, you know, reality maybe you can
          answer me this: In what movie does the scrawny, weaker-than-shit hero learn
          krotty from a strip-mall McDojo. F'ing none. You're living The Karate Kid, but
          you look like Napoleon Dynamite.

          Admit it Daniel-san, you've been looking for Mr. Miyagi all your life. You won't
          find him next to Olive Garden. Especially when you're getting your teeth
          rearranged. He'll be back at the hacienda plunging toilets because, in reality,
          he's just a old putz with a 6th grade education and a bad liver. Not some
          ancient krotty mastuh.

          So, face it. You're a walking lawsuit. You are a liability to your friends and
          family. Your karate-chopping, krav maga'gin, b-j-jobbin fantasy world is no
          match for a violent and determined criminal who wants your fixie.

          No matter how much "aliveness" you put into your training you still live in a
          world of rules designed to protect you.

          The only rules that exist are:
          1) gravity
          2) bigger things eat smaller things.


          Shed your illusions, lift heavy things, and we will all be safer.
          I partially agree. Size and strength absolutely fucking matter. But so does skill, speed, and intellect. I mean if what you say is completely true then Brock Lesner should be an unstoppable champion.

          Comment


            #6
            Violence of action matters. Being sure of what you are doing and single minded in focus matters probably more than anything.

            Comment


              #7
              Originally posted by Kriegschwein View Post
              Violence of action matters. Being sure of what you are doing and single minded in focus matters probably more than anything.
              Have you ever tested that theory?

              Comment


                #8
                Originally posted by Lily View Post
                I like everything about this thread except for the bull being punched.
                Originally posted by Mandem View Post
                Fortunately that's the part that didn't happen
                I don't know if it's true, but it's the only part I didn't make up.

                Comment


                  #9
                  Please note my observation still stands against the onslaught of nonsense and fuckery.

                  Comment


                    #10
                    But can that bull punching strongman take a SHURIKEN TO THE MOTHERFRICKIN' EYE!?!

                    Comment


                      #11
                      So basically what your saying is, if i do bicep curls i will punch harder and throw people further. Ok cool gotcha.

                      Comment


                        #12
                        I call bullshit

                        Originally posted by HarshMallow View Post
                        All martial arts are bullshit.

                        Let it sink in.

                        Some of you are nodding in agreement. You know what you do is purely for
                        entertainment and camaraderie. You hold no illusions about your lack of ability
                        to protect you and your loved ones using whatever sport-fu you've devoted
                        decades of time and thousands of dollars toward. The term sport-fu does not even
                        make you angry.

                        This post is not for you.

                        Some of you are plagued by a tiny demon of uncertainty. A nagging at your soul
                        hinting at your impotence. You float through your sepia-toned days thinking,
                        "Gee, I hope I never have to use this stuff, but if I do ..." Except the
                        dot-dot-dot part never gets filled in. You really think, "I hope I never have to
                        use this stuff." Because you know deep down it won't work.

                        This post is not for you either. You are on the path to salvation. Your epiphany
                        will surface. Each must find his own way.

                        "But, but, ... BJJ?!?!?!?" you sputter. Indeed. You are among the most deluded.
                        You folks are in the most danger. More than the Krav dorks.

                        Pay attention and follow this advice:

                        Take the $1,500 you'd spend for a year of crappy martial farts and buy a squat
                        rack, a decent bar and as many cheap iron plates you can scrounge from
                        craigslist. Then fucking use them.

                        Why? Because the barbell doesn't care how badass you think you are. You will
                        get instant feedback about how badass you really are. We are all gravity's
                        bitch. Nothing is stronger than strength.

                        Your cardio kickboxing doesn't mean shit. When your back's to the ground and
                        that blade is inching toward your heart you can always get an extra lungful of
                        air. You can't ever, ever get that extra pound of strength.

                        So, while angel-you is rolling with St. Peter, 'ol Methy will be counting your
                        money and raping your girl.

                        Here's a true story: My cousin is strong -- retard strong. On his first day as a
                        farmhand the bull was acting up. Wouldn't come inside. He walked up to the bull
                        and punched him in the face. From that moment onward the bull followed him
                        around like a puppy dog.

                        What would you do the bull? Krotty chop his nuts? Side-mount his scrotum? All you'd get
                        is a face-full of cow DNA. He made a 2,000 lb. bull his bitch by punching him in
                        the face!!! That's why being strong is better than your shit martial fart.

                        If he wanted your lunch money you'd give it to him. You'd also give him your
                        home address so he could go to your house and fuck your mom. Under no
                        circumstance would you try to arm-bar him. You'd go limp like a toddler the
                        second he put his meaty hand around your throat. Because, your martial fart is
                        bullshit.

                        Do you need more reasons why all martial farts are bullshit? Done. Let's talk
                        about the business of martial farts. There are more charlatans in the martial
                        farts industry than at a Herbalife convention.

                        Even your local Mom 'n Pop McDojo is a fraud because, as a Marshall Farts
                        Instruxor, your products are fear and cognitive dissonance.

                        As more people lift weights and get strong, they have less fear and fewer delusions.
                        This begets crazy money-grab schemes like affiliations, special weekend seminars,
                        and paying for promotions.

                        Need more cash? Then make more striped ranks. That way you don't even have to
                        buy them a new belt you cheap fuck.
                        If you had to pay to move from kindergarten
                        to first grade you'd still be a
                        crayon-eatin' motherfucker.

                        Try going into a dojo and telling them up-front that you plan to never test up.
                        Tell them you want to stay a white belt forever because you wanna stay humble.
                        Do you think they want a white belt wandering around their dojo kicking the crap
                        out of all their black belts? No. Not that it would be that hard from day one
                        anyway.

                        Don't get me started on Krotty Birthday Parties.

                        Since when does the ability to maim and kill with your hands make you qualified
                        to host birthday parties for toddlers? Think of it this way: if you can't
                        maintain a viable business with just selling the product you've trained for:
                        i.e.: your martial arts knowledge, maybe there isn't room in your town for a
                        McDojo - or your McDojo. You're an adult making a living entertaining children at
                        birthday parties. That makes you a clown. Might as well learn how to make balloon
                        nunchucks, Sifu Fizzbo.

                        Since movies inform your reality more than, you know, reality maybe you can
                        answer me this: In what movie does the scrawny, weaker-than-shit hero learn
                        krotty from a strip-mall McDojo. F'ing none. You're living The Karate Kid, but
                        you look like Napoleon Dynamite.

                        Admit it Daniel-san, you've been looking for Mr. Miyagi all your life. You won't
                        find him next to Olive Garden. Especially when you're getting your teeth
                        rearranged. He'll be back at the hacienda plunging toilets because, in reality,
                        he's just a old putz with a 6th grade education and a bad liver. Not some
                        ancient krotty mastuh.

                        So, face it. You're a walking lawsuit. You are a liability to your friends and
                        family. Your karate-chopping, krav maga'gin, b-j-jobbin fantasy world is no
                        match for a violent and determined criminal who wants your fixie.

                        No matter how much "aliveness" you put into your training you still live in a
                        world of rules designed to protect you.

                        The only rules that exist are:
                        1) gravity
                        2) bigger things eat smaller things.


                        Shed your illusions, lift heavy things, and we will all be safer.
                        )2 -

                        What about

                        worms
                        termites
                        piranna
                        ants
                        spiders
                        maggots
                        etc

                        You don't know diddly. Strong mandibles rule. I once bit a man's ear cause he told me he was going to show me how he fought in prison. Followed up on his chin. Beard makes for good floss.

                        Mouth boxing for the win.
                        Carter Hargrave's Jeet Can't Do

                        http://www.bullshido.net/forums/showthread.php?t=31636

                        Comment


                          #13
                          Originally posted by Kravbizarre View Post
                          So basically what your saying is, if i do bicep curls i will punch harder and throw people further. Ok cool gotcha.
                          OP has most likely had a stick shoved up his arse and slow roasted over someone's spit. Left him crusty on the outside and soft on the inner.

                          Hey, we're an all inclusive group, right?
                          Carter Hargrave's Jeet Can't Do

                          http://www.bullshido.net/forums/showthread.php?t=31636

                          Comment


                            #14
                            Originally posted by hungryjoe View Post
                            ... I once bit a man's ear cause he told me he was going to show me how he fought in prison .
                            And then you made sweet, sweet love to him?
                            "I'm reluctant to sound like a total fa66ot as well, but my background in sculpture gave me an edge in understanding how we're expected to move thru space." - The Other Other Serge

                            Comment


                              #15
                              Originally posted by Permalost View Post
                              But can that bull punching strongman take a SHURIKEN TO THE MOTHERFRICKIN' EYE!?!
                              IF he were that much of a badass, I'd say he could not only take the shuriken to the eye, but pull it out and throw it back at me.
                              I thought I spelled it wrong, but as I said I'm a mechanic not an English professor.

                              Comment

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