Modern Machismo

Raising Your Son Into a Machisman

2010-09-14T16:52:00.000-07:00

Before you begin reading let’s make one thing perfectly clear: if your son is over the age of thirteen, has expressed a keen interest in gymnastics, and has never beat up another kid over something as menial as disliking the cut of his jib, then I’m afraid you must abandon all hope of ever raising a real man. That’s actually untrue, I’m not afraid. But all your parental tactics are futile from here on out; there is no way to undo the thirteen years you spent sissying the kid up and now he’s a dipshit teenager who will forever think you’re a pathetic old fart, and you know what? He’s right, you fuck-up.

Kids are retarded. They have no sense of individuality and so the only way they learn how to behave is by mimicking others, so the best way to ensure your child becomes a man is to be one yourself. Start by making sure that there is always whiskey within arms reach of wherever you happen to be. This whiskey can best be enjoyed sitting in a comfortable, semi-reclined chair, not necessarily doing anything more than contemplating the wall. It’s important to keep an air of mystery about your character as a man. Words must be rarely used and kept to a minimum when you do. Acknowledge others with a grunt, and add a slight nod for loved ones if you so choose. Soon your son will realize that a good man says little and emotes less.

If your kid skins his knee then don’t start freaking out and run for the iodine, and if your wife does then tell her to sit down and calm her tits. Sure, if you happen to be drinking whiskey then spare some for sterilization purposes, but never more than half a slug (remember, always have whiskey). Children are entirely capable of full recuperation within hours of receiving any sort of scrape, cut, bruise, and contusion without a pissy little worrywart of a father there to enable his constant desire for affection.

No matter how incredible a feat your son accomplishes, be sure not to reward him with gifts or money. A pat on the back is sufficient, and maybe throw in a ‘nice job’, but nothing too over-the-top. The world is harsh and unfair, and that is a brutal reality that you want to make sure your son comes to terms with as early as possible. As such, severe punishment for anything you find offensive is strongly encouraged. Don’t let the law determine what is right and wrong either, let your child know that you are above any and every manmade law, that your word is final and your power is absolute. Accept no dissent.

As an aspiring man your boy should know to stand firm in any decision. Any regrets or apologies are signs of a weakness of character that will be easily exploited later in life by better men. Make sure that your child stands firm against any accusations of wrongdoings. If his word is to one day also be absolute then he should start to believe that he is incapable of misbehaviour and that it is instead the whole world who is acting out of line.

Make sure your child understands that money is the single most important thing in the world, as it can be used to purchase the three other most important things in the world: alcohol, cigarettes, and meat. And although it is recommended that your son adhere to a strict schedule of physical activity to ensure the hardened physique of a grizzled woodsman, money can be used as a substitution for good looks in order to attract many suitable mates. If your son manages a perfect combination of the two then he need never worry about not succeeding again.

To ensure your kid has enough protein to tackle the adversity of everyday man life, make sure to limit the amount of food in his diet from food groups that aren’t meat. Vegetables are best used as a garnish and chocolate is for women. If your son wants a snack then provide him with beef jerky. Actually, tell him that he’ll get beef jerky after he mows the lawn, then don’t give him any. Remember, it’s important not to let him believe that he’ll always get what he’s earned.

Chores are an essential part of any childs upbringing. They instill a sense of discipline and duty in your son while lifting a heavy burden from your back. The only reason that man has felt compelled to breed throughout time is so they can have someone to help out around the house. So if your son complains about doing chores, be sure to explain to him that if it weren’t for chores then he would never have been brought into existence. If this hideous truth reduces him to tears, threaten to disown him until the crying stops.

Threatening to disown your son may seem harsh, but it is often an effective tactic in keeping him in line. The very idea of having nobody but himself to rely on will scare him more than the iron fist of even the most authoritarian father. He will come to understand that while he is under the roof of another he must blindly abide by their law with the stoicism of a statue; emotionless and speechless. One day, however, your son won’t be threatened by the prospect of being disowned. In fact, he will actually disown himself and set off into the working world alone, sleeping under his own roof, living under his own law. When this day comes all that is left to do is stand tall and proud, for you, sir, have just completed raising a man.

Al Murray-Lawson

The Scent of a He-man

2010-08-24T16:23:00.000-07:00

I’m sick of cologne. In what reality would this glorified perfume be deemed an attractive scent? Who likes smelling like a chemical bouquet? The answer should be no-fucking-body. Sure, it may be better than smelling like you just took a gnarly diarrhea in a sauna, but even the unwashed foreskin of a long-dead horse smells better than that (maybe). But one thing all men can agree on is that there’s nothing worse than a dude who spends so much time whining that he never gets around to just rolling up his sleeves and fucking doing something, and so I’ve compiled a list of things that I believe men would- and should- enjoy smelling like, and I will be pitching my ideas to whoever the hell will listen (I’m staring menacingly in your direction, Ralph Lauren). Keep your eyes open next time you’re in Marks Work Warehouse.

Cedar

Maybe you just finished building a cedar deck on which you will store your barbecue to be used for cooking salmon on a cedar plank, or maybe you just emerged victorious from your weekly bear-fighting league out in the middle of a cedar forest. It doesn’t matter if you weren’t participating in either activity, because now you’ll be able to smell like you were. Cedar is the Brad Pitt of trees; the type of tree every shitty joe-schmoe elm wishes they were and that all the crazy beeches wanna freak with. But the best thing about buying cedar cologne is that you will be supporting the testosterone-driven logging industry and subsequently reducing hippies everywhere to tears, all for the sake of your vanity.

Hot Sauce

Because no man wants to smell like thousand island dressing. Only the best foods are complimented by hot sauce (meat, eggs, and anything else packed to the tits with protein) and so smelling like it will subconsciously influence your diet and your life for the better. It has also recently been discovered that when Kodiak bears are ready to breed they give off a scent of hot sauce to attract potential suitors.

Scotch

Not the rancid smell of a weathered old mans breath, but the sweet aroma of a freshly cracked bottle of 15-year-old Glenlivet aged in oak casks. You would reek of experience and wisdom instead of defeat and missed child support payments, and I imagine it would smell something like Hemingway did. If you don’t want to smell like a man who hunted German U-Boats in the Caribbean Sea then please hand in your penis on the way out of Modern Machismo 101, Women’s Lib is down the hall.

Maple Syrup

Syrup is like the blood of trees, so smothering yourself in the blood of a tree to smell nice is sort of badass, but if you’re doing it as a warning to the rest of the maples then it’s incalculably badass. Basically any smell that occurs naturally in a forest is an acceptable aroma for a male- with the exception of flowers- but there are some (maple syrup) which are more pleasant than others (bear shit). Choose wisely, and by that I mean don’t fucking smell like bear shit, asshole.

Bacon

Bacon is the meat that perfectly compliments any dish, especially other meat. Now it can perfectly compliment your take-no-shit attitude. It doesn’t matter how full someone is, the smell of bacon will always instantly revive their appetite. Whenever you smell of bacon people will assume that you just woke up, are still quite irate, and are on your way to your dead-end job to work tirelessly on some sort of loud jobsite while you are surrounded by large and dangerous machinery just so you can earn enough money to purchase more bacon.

Diesel
I was going to say ‘gasoline’ but even a clumsy owner of a Smart Car sometimes smells like gas, so that scent is out of the question. Only the biggest, loudest, and pollutinest machines consume diesel, only to subsequently spit out the black fog residue high into the sky as though to say ‘Fuck you and your bitch Earth, God’. Since everything these days can be turned into a hybrid it’s safe to assume that diesel-powered machines continue to exist solely as an affront to hippies, and that makes it alright by me (a man).

Al Murray-Lawson

Steve McQueen

2010-07-12T15:45:00.000-07:00

Some men buy motorcycles to compensate for their small penises. Other men have motorcycles for penises.

In this day and age it’s easy to forget about traditional manliness. The world is so rife with art gallery going, fashion conscious men that the very idea of badass he-men is all but a fantasy unless you one day see a lumberjack trudging down the sidewalk with a tree slung casually over his shoulder. Even the macho superstars of yesterday have been cast into the shadows to make room for a new breed of rock stars clad in make-up and effeminate vampires who (shudder) fucking sparkle in sunlight. In these dark times it is comforting to reflect on men of exceptional caliber who were true testaments to everything it means to be a man, and one such man went by the name of Steve McQueen.

Born on the 24^th of March, 1930 to a stunt pilot father and an alcoholic mother, it seems like he was destined from birth to become either the kickass powerhouse that he was or the weird kid in your homeroom class who always smelled like a dead cat and collected his fingernail trimmings in a matchbox. He spent his childhood jumping from his great uncles farm to living with his alcoholic mother and whatever abusive stepfather she was married to at the time.

At the tender age of twelve, McQueen had already joined a gang and spent many of his early teenage years committing petty crimes. When he was caught stealing hubcaps by police, his stepfather beat him senseless then shipped him off to a reform school, where he kicked every ass necessary to get on top.

He didn't smoke because it looked cool, he just liked to remind cancer who was in charge.

After leaving reform school, presumably in a pile of wreckage and broken bones, McQueen tried his hand at a variety of different jobs, including towel boy in a brothel, carnival salesman, oil rigger, and lumberjack. It probably would be safe to assume that he also wrestled mountain lions and had drinking competitions with grizzly bears for fun on his off time.

One day he met two Merchant Marines and decided that joining the United States Marine Corps was the next logical step in a progressively more awesome list of occupations. Fortunately, he was honorably discharged in 1950 after a slew of rebellion, including spending two weeks away banging his girlfriend when he was supposed to be trapped on a ship full of dudes in the Caribbean.

This is when McQueen started getting into acting, supporting his newfound interest by participating in motorcycle races on the weekend. His love of racing motorcycles and cars is what persuaded him to do the driving in the incredibly famous chase scene through downtown San Francisco in the movie Bullitt. It was so difficult to find stunt riders as talented as McQueen that they actually had to film him chasing himself in the motorcycle getaway scene from The Great Escape. He donned a German outfit for some of the scenes and with clever editing it looked like someone else was chasing him through the backcountry of Germany. For insurance purposes they had to have his friend and look-a-like Bud Ekins jump the Swiss border at the end of the chase, but you can bet your ass and half a titty that he wanted to jump it all by himself.

Legend has it that when Steve McQueen threw up this peace sign, Muslims and Jews dropped

their weapons and hugged for a full five minutes before going back to killing each other.

Aside from being an avid classic motorcycle and car collector, motorcycle and car racer, and pilot in his fucking off-time, McQueen was also a notorious womanizer and party animal. He was good friends with Sharon Tate, and was even invited to the party in which Tate was murdered, but instead opted to do cocaine and slam a model all night long. Yes, while drug use may have killed a lesser man, it ultimately saved Steve McQueen’s life. Pay attention kids, this is good stuff.

He was a pallbearer at Bruce Lee’s funeral and convinced Chuck Norris to take up acting, so in a round(house)-about-way McQueen can also be credited for all of those Chuck Norris jokes that were funny for about a week, but not funnier than watching him punch out dudes stuck in bear traps on Walker: Texas Ranger. That shit is timeless.

McQueen died in October of 1980 at the age of fifty due to complications from surgery to remove tumors from his abdomen. The tumors were an effect of mesothelioma, which he got from overexposure to asbestos. McQueen felt this was a result of removing asbestos from a troop ship while serving in the Marines. He was cremated and his ashes were spread in the Pacific Ocean, where they were probably ingested by sharks who started fist fighting and fucking everything worth fucking in sight.

So cocaine saved his life, he smoked like a chimney up until he was diagnosed with cancer, and it was concluded that serving his country killed this daredevil drug abuser. This dude was born to kick ass but apparently was too busy racing motorcycles and conquering womankind to take names. I’ll just assume he had an assistant to do that.

Hopefully the tide of manhood will rise once again to drown and wash away all of the scrawny and androgynous pussies that dare to call themselves men and leave in their place a new breed of take-no-shit lumberjacking diehards to rein in a new era of awesome. Until then we can only revel in the glory that those like Steve McQueen have generously left behind for us; the men for all ages.

Al Murray-Lawson

Bear Grylls: A Retrospective

2010-07-01T09:59:00.000-07:00

Pictured: Testosterone

Science proves that Bear Grylls is a man. No one can dispute that. What Science doesn’t prove however, is just how much of a man he is. I’m fairly sure he eats his cornflakes with a side of testosterone, and then rounds the meal off with a shot of anti-oestrogen, just to confirm, and enhance, his masculinity. Not that he needs it. When Bear Grylls was a newborn, he didn’t suck at his mother’s teet, instead he ordered the wench to get him a fucking steak. And then he climbed a mountain. His sister gave him the nickname “Bear” when he was just a week old. Presumably because at the ripe old age of 7 days, he found himself in an altercation with a sleuth of bears, and in a hard-fought physical encounter, Edward, as he was then known, came out on top. Thus, from that day forth, Bear was his name.

Real men shank turtles in the face and drink their blood

Most people know Grylls because he drinks his own piss and eats stuff that most ‘men’ would rather be de-testicalized than eat. But there’s much more to Bear than that. He left school, trekked around the Himalayas for a bit, and then joined the United Kingdom Special Forces as a trooper, survival instructor, and patrol medic. It’s for these reasons that Bear Grylls will never die. He broke his back after trying to fix his parachute mid-fall, when he could have just used the reserve parachute instead, which is pretty badass. If that wasn’t enough, once he’d got over his broken back (which only took 4 minutes), he climbed up Mount Everest, which anyone will tell you takes more than a smile. He’s also jet-skied around the circumference of the UK, paramotored over Angel Falls in Venezuela, and broke the world record for the longest indoor freefall. Perhaps his meanest feat was crossing the North Atlantic Arctic Ocean in what can only be described as a dingy. This is the stretch of ocean even George Clooney and Mark Wahlberg couldn’t navigate in The Perfect Storm. Grylls and the team went from Halifax, Nova Scotia, to John O’Groats, Scotland. That’s a shit load of treacherous waters to negotiate.

Despite devouring some of the most revolting meals available on this planet, Bear often brags about the amount of protein (which is the manliest of all nutrients) that the scorpion tail, or the sheep’s eyeball contains. Resourcefulness is definitely a masculine trait, and squeezing the liquid out of elephant shit at times of severe dehydration is pretty damn resourceful.
Being Bear Grylls is pretty dangerous, though, and he has had his share of near death experiences. Why does he keep doing it then? Because he remembers that he is immortal. Having said all this, there are many more red-blooded explorers out there whom are lesser known than Grylls. A must-see is Heimo Korth’s documentary “Heimo’s Arctic Refuge”. Stay tuned for a review of this soon.

Phil Decelis

Discount Heady Goodness

2010-06-27T08:10:00.000-07:00

A significant part of becoming a man is ridding yourself of such childish pleasures as toys, playing games, and drinking 40s of malt liquor in the schoolyard after dark in order to make room for more mature vices such as tools, sports, and paying 15 dollars for a six pack of Heineken to take to a house warming party that your girlfriend is making you attend when it would make just as much sense to pay your degenerate friend the same amount to let his incontinent dog piss in your mouth.

Now that I got that sarcasm out of the way in one swift paragraph, let’s face the facts; the idea of maturation through abandoning everything that was incredibly awesome about your childhood is bullshit, especially when you start to believe that drinking Stella Artois is a sign of sophistication and class. Besides, being frugal about getting shit-canned frees your wallet up for bigger and better things, such as attending monster truck shows on mushrooms and gambling on two homeless people fighting over a bottle of Listerine.

The experienced drunk knows that quality need not be an expendable characteristic in the hunt for cheap beer, which is proven in the following list of some of the smoothest drinks from the ‘discount brands’ list.

5. Miller Genuine Draft
Although it’s one of the pricier of the inexpensive beers, MGD can’t truly be considered an upscale choice unless you also consider Hamburger Helper to be gourmet cooking. The only thing keeping this beer from a higher ranking on the list is the fact that you probably won’t be able to upsize your combo at the all-night fast food joint you stumbled into after last call.

4. Bohemian

Take solace in the fact that an actual Bohemian being responsible for brewing this beer is statistically impossible, as Bohemians are incapable of running any successful business, and instead enjoy the liquid deliciousness behind the deceptive name. This beer is great for any drinking game because it comes up just as smooth as it goes down, which makes it that much easier to get back on the horse after an involuntary bout of emptying your stomach contents onto the porch at your friends cottage.

3. Old English

The quintessential beverage of the thrifty drinker, the fact that it’s makers can even turn a profit off this unbelievably inexpensive malt liquor is a true testament to how much ass it kicks (significant amounts). Anything with those kinds of sales numbers must have some serious staying power. Throw it in a paper bag and enjoy it at your leisure on a stoop or park bench of your choice.

2. Old Milwaukee

When your city’s baseball team is called ‘Brewers’ then you’d expect the locals to know something more than dick-all about brewing. Well, here’s Old Milwaukee. This beer goes down so easily you’ll be wondering why there’s only one of your twelve cans left when you could’ve sworn that you’ve only drank three. Coupled with a Big Mac and the nostalgia of being the only beer you could afford in high school, Old Milwaukee is a guaranteed raucous night, especially if you opt for the higher alcohol content ‘Ice’ brand.

1. Pabst Blue Ribbon

Although seemingly relegated to a fate as the beer of choice among hipsters, awesome men everywhere are joining the movement to reclaim PBR from those flannel-clad fuckwads. It was even the beer of choice for Clint Eastwood’s character Walt Kowalski in Gran Torino, forever cementing it’s reputation as a badass beer from here on out. Whether or not the beer has actually won any blue ribbons is as debatable as it is insignificant, as this delicious drink of red-white-and-blue pride goes down smoother than Jenna Haze on a waxed package. A perfect beer for any time of the day, month, year, or physical state, not even becoming the favourite drink for figure skaters could turn a true man off of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

When you feel like breaking the bank…

Dos Equis

All brilliant marketing schemes aside, this beer makes up for its lack of alcohol content with a crisp, refreshing taste that can make even your moms rainy funeral worth celebrating. It may not actually make you the most interesting man in the world, but when you have enough money to down twelve of them then you sure as shit will feel like you are. Make any occasion that’s worth remembering less memorable with 4.5 percent of Mexican excellence.

Al Murray-Lawson

A Fitting Introduction

2010-06-20T12:08:00.000-07:00

Machismo doesn't sound very masculine when you really have the word floating around in your mouth (no homo) does it? Ma cheese mo. Sounds more like an italian kid asking for more parmasean on his veal; "Ma! Cheese! Mo!" Yet it still evokes a greasy, stoic, intensely male image that - aside from biker/bouncers, certain firemen, and mechanics - isn't a character type that has much stage time in our culture. Androgyny, sensitivity, and being really into bands are the sweeping sentiments for most male youth of these early 2010s, providing they don't need to steal in order to eat or are psychos born on naval bases. And to be honest? I'm fine with that. Except when it comes to the way we deal with women.

I should also say that I couldn't care less about providing women advice to strangers in a zine column. I also do not mean to marginalize homosexuals here, it's just that dude on dude relationships are really complicated and I'm not going to pretend to understand them. All that said, I do feel like a giant wave of pussification has contaminated a large sect of our gender. I mean, do you think your grandfather needed a leather bound book with a cheap red ribbon bookmark and gold glitter pages called 'The Game' to bang your grandma? Or did he knock back a 26 of dark liquour, tell her how many kids he wanted, and swing her over his shoulder? And I bet your grandpa banged tons of strange vajay before that. It's the circle of life.

Now what we have is a bunch of mp3 downloading pot addicts that would rather send a tweet to Kim Kardashian on their iPad than tell the friend of a friend (who is a 7, by the way) sitting beside him he likes her purple sweater. Or worse, the Jersey Shore guidos (who have been around for a lot longer than MTV would have you think) who travel in tanned packs attracting mosquitos with the fumes from their hair spray telling chicks their mom's basement has a sweet pullout.

Whatever debilitating social handicap you'd like to call upon in order to inform a discussion about the modern male's failure to secure women, the fact is, masculinity and the essence of our gender has been clouded by the over-analysis of dating and the fashionized image of the modern man. There's nothing wrong with being thoughtful and considerate, or caring about the way you look, but once you lose touch with yourself and your goals as a man, you're fucked. If you're an average looking dude who's really into audio equipment and can tell a couple of good jokes, don't pretend like you're a kingshit DJ with a billion places to be and a resume of 55 hot slut models, just buy that down to earth broad a drink and hope to God she swallows. Otherwise you're going to end up as another coked out 30 year old scheming on 22 year old girls for cuddles, and trust me, nobody wants that.

Lucien Stewart