weight liftingI STARTED WHAT would be classified as bodybuilding about 3-4 months ago. I want to improve my physique and get fitter and stronger. But I’m not aiming to become some ‘roid ridden, sunbed using, oily muscle man posing in my trunks. I simply wanted to feel better and hopefully look better.

After nearly 4 months what have I learnt? What can I pass on to you?

Like anything in life lifting weights requires you to have some sort of aim or goal, otherwise you’ll dwindle and lose interest. Is it to get healthier? To look better for yourself/ partner/ potential partner? Any which way, you need to define and track your progress. That way you’ll have evidence of your exercise routine, there are numbers to show how you’ve improved, what your strengths and weaknesses are. I’m currently going through a review process – my motivation started to wane about a week ago, so I’m taking a 7-10 day break until I feel motivated again (already feeling the itch, metaphorical of course!). This is giving my body a break, my mind a break and allowing me to re-evaluate where I want to be in another 3 months. I initially I thought it was ‘cheating’ or being lazy or weak; even ill disciplined. Having read and listened to different sources on bodybuilding the consensus is that a break is a very positive thing. So do break.

What else? Choose a routine and stick to it for 4-6 weeks. Do not be afraid to change some elements of your routine. Routines become boring so if you don’t change aspects of it e.g. swapping out one exercise for a different one for the same bodypart then you will get bored and demotivated which is A) not necessary as you have alternatives and B) can really kill your enjoyment which will reduce your desire to lift.

Plan your workouts around your life. If you can’t exercise at night after work or studying, how about the morning? afternoon? This gives you the optimal chance to stick to a routine without making excuses.

Eat well, eat often. Keep your body fueled throughout the day with healthy foods and of course make sure you’re getting enough protein, without it muscle will not grow. A rough heuristic is per lb of bodyweight, eat 1g of protein. So 180lbs=180g of protein. This is difficult to through your food intake alone so pure protein powder like Pulsin is what you want – ideally there will be no additives. While on the subject of what you’re putting into your body, disregard all the bullshit supplements and steroids. Protein is THE main thing you need to get bigger alongside a healthy diet.

Make sure your workouts are at performed your maximum capacity. No on else will push you, the onus is on you alone, and only through exerting yourself and pushing the reps and weight during your set will you see improvements. However, don’t make the mistake of trying to lift too much – chances are you’ll only be able to do low reps. You’re better starting lighter and busting out 4 sets of 8 reps than 4 sets of 4-6 reps (unless you’re a powerlifter).

Don’t forget cardio! While gaining muscle doesn’t require cardio, being physically fit will boost your sessions and help keep your weight in check. Don’t overdo it though. If you’re busting out 1hour treadmill sessions on top of a 1hour weightlifting session then your body will need insanely good nutrition in order to simultaneously grow muscle.

A last word(s): get enough sleep! It helps your body recover and you’ll feel better in all aspects of your life. Remember the more you push your body the more your recovery matters.

Get fit, stay fit and enjoy it!

palestine israel death toll

WHILE WESTERN MEDIA has been broadcasting biased news coverage of the Israel-Palestine conflict, they are neglecting (likely on purpose) to ever go into any detail as to why the conflict exists. Indeed this is isn’t a new trend, this has been going on for decades. Behind any war there is always history, whether recent or old, and although the full history would be too lengthy to discuss on a nightly news programme with limited broadcast time, there is another option – images! Such as the one below:

palestinian-loss-of-land-1946-2010

 

Regardless of your sympathies or allegiance, if any, toward Israel or Palestine, sadly the blueprint for today’s war is as a result of incredible short shortsightedness and almost incalculable stupidity. To even suggest a land be cut up and designated for another people from existing land owned by the inhabitants in the modern era is a recipe for fighting for generations. The fact that this has involved Israel and Palestine isn’t even of relevance. If you chopped Scotland up and divided it in order to provide a group of people with a ‘home’ because their spiritual home or whatever is within Scottish borders, I’ll guarantee this would upset many many people and would continue to do so for decades if not centuries.

The UN was in involved in creating the State of Israel in the 1940′s after World War II. You cannot whip up a new country where a country already exists and expect there to be peace and harmony, especially in a region like the Middle East that has always been volatile. A mad idea.

Palestine has every right to be angry at what happened. Their land was annexed and to this day continues to be the target of Israel who continuously bullies and bulldozes its way through Palestine settlements making Palestine even smaller day by day. Palestine is trapped in the equivalent of a trash compactor, the walls squeezing in on them bit by bit.

Religion obviously has a huge part to play in this bloody saga as Jewish Israel fights the values of Islam and radical Hamas. But this is beyond religion. Israel was handed land and continues to land grab sixty years after it was formed. Hamas fires rockets and Israel then bombards them back with heavy duty expensive military hardware, blitzing buildings and families. Death tolls are seldom accurately reported but it should be obvious to anyone with half a cerebellum that rockets don’t have anywhere near the destructive power of missiles or fighter jets.

The whole history of the conflict is another sad sad reminder of what human beings are capable of doing over and over and over again. History teaches us nothing, or so it seems. Jews obviously suffered hugely in WWII. Yet, you would think they would be the one people who would be the last to resort to war or fighting of any kind. But here we are seventy years later and Israel is showing all the signs of a brutal, remorseless and unsympathetic state. Thankfully people are beginning to realise that Israel is not the damsel in distress being hit by rockets, but that they themselves are behaving in a brutal fashion and have no regard for civilian lives of Palestinians. Add in all the harassment and feeling of entrapment for many Palestinians as well as fear of having their land taken away, and it’s really an amazing PR job by Israel and its associates to have generated Israeli sympathy for such a long time. Only recently does it seems there is any balance to the coverage of the war zone, at least on the internet.

Hopefully there will be a solution sooner rather than later. Knowing people’s capacity for violence rather than peace I can’t see an end in sight. In light of recent news it is also America’s war, as they are providing vast sums to help support Israel’s defence systems. Seems about right don’t you think? The UK was involved in creating Israel, with disastrous consequences, and the US is helping out in a war on foreign lands. Little changes.

It’s Feeding Time

Posted: July 12, 2014 in Rash Fiction

all work and no play makes jack a very dull boy

I HAVEN’T FED it in awhile
But it never starves
Like a rat scratching behind a wall
It’s presence is heard not seen.

Obsessions can be your fortune
Or a dangerous acquaintance
But either way,
You’ll sacrifice others, going upwards or down.

Yes, it’s feeding time, again
And I know what to do
For optimal growth
Feed an obsession an obsession.

fly

From a fly on the wall.
Overheard in a meeting at West n’ Yessum:

‘But their fingers aren’t long enough. That’s the problem. You need to make it smaller but not so small that adults can’t use them. That way we create a divergent market: for kids and adults.’The presentation stayed on the screen with a 3-D graph of projected market and profits in third world areas: the ‘Emerging Markets’.

There were ten people at the long table, naturally the CEO was at the head. All suited in the exact same designer as the CEO, because you know, it’s sure to lead to success. Mr. G. M. Brindle was his name. Nobody knew what the ‘G’ or ‘M’ stood for. He sat playing with a doll and replica gun as everyone else watched.’Well this doll hand isn’t realistic enough. I need real children. But then, are their fingers bigger than ours or smaller over there?’

A Mexican wave of raised eyebrows followed along with exchanges of the facial expression, ‘Do you know? I don’t know.’

‘I really don’t see any issues with the projected revenues,’ said Mr. Brindle putting the lifesize doll down and focusing on his executive notebook. ‘They look good – really good. My only concern – is the logistics – how are getting the guns to Africa? Are there risks we need to be aware of? Lloyd, look into it.’

Lloyd sat upright in his seat, nodding vigorously, clicking his silver Parker pen rapidly.

Mr. CEO sat back for a minute and stared out of the huge glass panel window. At least five minutes passed. His wide face didn’t change expression, he blinked liked a reptile – seldom. Then he raised his hands up in the position someone with an invisible gun would.

All the suits leaned in expectantly, intrigued and respectful. Their boss always surprised them.

‘Butts. Our normal rifles have big butts. Let’s make them adjustable.’

Without instruction Richard began sketching roughly on his notepad.

‘Let’s think pressure. What pressure are triggers normally set at in order to fire a shot? It should be easy, but safe!’

‘Adjustable pressure?’ chimed in Dennis.

‘Yes!’ exclaimed the boss becoming animated. ‘Exactly! I want a baby to be able to use one…well you know what I mean. I believe with the figures presented today and with a reasonable test phase we can have these guns on the market within a year.’ His face radiated pride. ‘So, who has children?’

Six people motioned that they did.

‘Great! Bring them in for a ‘work day’ and we’ll use them for testing.’

‘Boss, my kids are teenagers,’ said Dennis. ‘Nearly finished high school.’

‘My twins are six months..,’ added someone else.

‘Ok scrap that. Let’s offer some sort of Sunday Fun Day to a local school. There’ll be food, bouncy castles, all that kid stuff. And we’ll get them all to test out the prototypes and see how they fair. We could use ergonomics tables, 95th percentiles and all that but I want raw data – real feedback.’ His blue eyes shifted side to side, looking for feelers.

‘Err, there might be an issue with ethics and getting permission,’ fired Ivan curtly, the company’s lawyer.

‘Nonsense!’ Brindle looked incredulous. ‘We’ll wrap it all up like it’s a game. We test trigger pressure by adjusting guns for some fair game. We wrap it all up with a big family friendly bow, totally clandestine. No one needs to know. It’s beautiful.’ He picked up a full tumbler and drained the water before standing up. ‘Meeting adjourned, you know what to do. Plans by email on Monday.’

The rest of the suits remained seated as their CEO left the office buttoning up his jacket.

‘Well I have a question,’ said Dennis. ‘How do we get these to African warlords? Or to conflict zones in general? It’s not exactly well researched. And what percentage of their army are teenagers or younger?’

‘Yeah, exactly. I think my main concern is that children are potentially using these guns…’ piped up Vanessa, the sole female of the pack.

‘Potentially,’ murmured Richard.

‘..The safety of the new guns, if they are being used by kids, they need to be child-friendly. Instructions need to be really clear and simple. We need pictures; diagrams that break through any language barriers.’

Nodding and murmurs.

‘And let’s not forget, they should be comfortable to use without performance reductions. I’m thinking the brief should be that they ‘handle like a dream’ ,’ added Richard.

‘What do kids dream of?’ mumbled someone thinking aloud.

Suddenly, Dennis got out of his seat with a Financial Times rolled up, and walked up to the wall opposite me. Only then did I see one of my relatives on the wall, cleaning himself. 

Whack!

Just like that he was dead. These people were ruthless…All I could do was wait patiently on the ceiling for the door to open.

wordpress blogging

 

ONCE YOU HAVE typed up your blog post chances are you will be tagging it so that people who search for ‘Zombie Chiropodist’ will find your very niche blog post about it.

There is some dispute as to how many tags you should put in for one post, I tend to add as many as I can think of that are relevant to the post. This ranges from perhaps eight up to twenty, it just depends, some topics are more ‘taggable’. And if you are like me, your posts will generally revolve around a set number of subjects, often with the same themes.

So the tip to save you a bit of time is this: In the blog Posts window (Click Dashboard, then Posts), you will see the tags displayed for previous posts. If you have a new post with very similar tags simply select and copy the tags and paste them into the tags part of the new post you are about to publish. Presto! You don’t have to type in the same ones or select them from the list that pops up, much easier!

futuristic skyscraper (2)Beware the flashing light.

AS MY MUSIKSTIK blitzed my ears with the same old playlist I thought of the open door and flashing light. Why was nobody around? I dangled off the West of the building now, meditatively cleaning with lazy expertise. The patterns made by my squeegee had a certain look and feel to them that was pleasing, the cleaning liquid always differently formed. Sad details like these have some import when this is your life. Even medieval witches had one up on me. They didn’t have to clean when they were hanging. Disregard that – my life could be worse, I could be on the other side of the glass, I could be a fruit fly, dead within hours of hatching.

I paused to randomise my playlist, fumbling a bit with the tiny size of the music device through thermal gloves. As I decided I was in an electro kind of mood I smelt something unusual in an airspace usually so pristine. It was like I was in my flat after a power outage, having snuffed out a candle, the faintest whiff of lingering smoke. Several windows later and I got another hit through my face mask.

There seemed no obvious source – until I looked down.

As I looked below me the clouds looked dirty, in need of a clean, tinged with unnatural brown. Pollution wasn’t exactly unheard of. I peeled off my ski-goggles to have a better look.

From the side of the tower there was a small spiral of smoke. It didn’t seem real. Where was the fire? I couldn’t see any signs of orange.

Did that explain the flashing light? I couldn’t hear a fire alarm. I had an idea. I swung the cleaning fluid bucket around my waist so I could press against the glass. There was a chance it would work despite being over two inches thick. The wind buffeted me against the glass making it hard to get my ear against it without running the risk of having my skull bashed in. I grabbed a narrow sliver of a sill and got my lug against the glass. I listened attentively, trying to drown out the background whistling of the wind. I couldn’t be certain but I thought I could hear a faint clanging. Simultaneously my mask filled with a toxic stench. Ripping it off I realised that there was more where that came from. It was the smell of burnt monitors and cheap office furniture effortlessly fueled by pointless paperwork.

Only in that instant, as my lungs filled with cancer inducing toxins, did I think to pull myself up, to get out of the decreasingly fresh air and get to the ground floor as soon as possible. A look at my watch told me it had been about forty five minutes since I saw the open door and flashing light. No wonder the place was empty. The kicker was I hadn’t even signed in today. I never bothered, but at least I’d say hi to several people on the way up that I knew, who could verify for me. Today I hadn’t even seen anyone on the way up. All the other cleaning crews would have finished before me as well and been lower down, meaning they’d have had more warning about the emergency.

Pulling upwards I looked down once more. I expected it and it didn’t disappoint. A lick of orange was now curling out the building as if a dragon had taken up residence. It all seemed so surreal, to the point that I calmly hauled myself back up to the access hatch, no faster than normal.

This predictable heart of mine thumped away, as if the brain was totally disconnected, steady, so steady. Black smoked grew blacker as I unharnessed, hugging the sides of the tower then swirling out into the open air bringing occasional flecks of amber. It was times like these where childish wishes enter. If only I were a base jumper. One jump, one pull of a cord, twenty seconds, then safety.

Optimism gurgled away as I opened the access hatch and climbed down the short ladder; I pictured smoke-free stairs and enough time to grab a snack and a drink on the way down…

 

 

 

lion around writing:

A seldom reported side of Israel and what they do to their neigbour.

Originally posted on Stop Making Sense:

From Stop the War Coalition:

Father hold body of son‘Every child killed is to be mourned but the mainstream media in its reporting always places greater value on the death of Israelis compared to Palestinians. Which is why many people will not know the reality of who is killing most children in the Middle East.

132 Israeli children have been killed by Palestinians and 1,523 Palestinian children have been killed by Israelis since September 29, 2000. Approximately 12 times more Palestinian children have been killed than Israeli children.’

READ MORE…

View original

Check out the link to Vice.com at the bottom.

VICE sent a guy to Columbia to investigate the effects of a drug known to locals as ‘Devil’s Breath’ which reportedly can render a person entirely suggestible, essentially they will do anything they are asked to do. And yes what you just thought of is one of the things it is used for.

Although the documentary doesn’t get very scientific, the stories told by interviewed locals make this interesting enough. Scopolamine as the drug is also known as has an air of mysticism about it with roots in ancient rituals. Enjoy.

http://www.vice.com/en_uk/vice-news/colombian-devil-s-breath-1-of-2

george carlin wisdomWHAT A SHAME he isn’t still around. I wish he was here to pass comments on, and ridicule everything the US and UK have done in other countries since 2001.

He was a rare comedian in that he managed to be hilarious and incredibly clever all while pointing out the horrific state of mankind. A lot of comedians manage some of those elements but few have/ had the raw delivery of Carlin and ability to combine all of them with such ease. Thankfully there is plenty of footage and media to remind us of his ability to point out the insanity of the world that we are all involved in.

an ideaI HAD AN idea once. No, wait, that makes me sound like I’ve only had one. I’ve had at least three in my lifetime… But seriously I had an idea for a story about a planet where there is a master race who control all the resources, they turn it into a giant mine and exploit every living organism in it. There were many different kinds of people – the ones who controlled everything, and all the others. And there were chains of hierarchy whereby the rich enslaved the poor. Not necessarily in chains, attached to a desk, not like that. More in a subtle kind of way, like some people far far away would spend twelve hours a day stitching footwear together so the wealthy could buy them and parade them around until a small patch of dirt on the white fabric made them hideous and unwearable ever again.

Or that people would be forced to feed prawns and peel them from boats on which they would be prisoner, because the company who enslaved them had armed guards to make sure they didn’t leave. Then I had an even better one, idea that is, focusing on a factory where workers were so sick and tired of earning a pittance from their laborious lives behind a factory wall, they decided to kill themselves.

Which lets face it, is entirely selfish seeing as people need to make phone calls in another part of the world.

One way or another, whether ghost-slavery or blatant, this planet destroyed itself because the imbalance was so pronounced that it literally stopped spinning.

Then I realised, it wasn’t even fiction…