Rambling Rhodes

Sanctuary

I'll occasionally drop by some of the blogs run by the local newspaper of note, the Rochester Post-Bulletin. Awhile back, when a local mixed martial arts (MMA) fighter was being featured in the reality TV show "The Ultimate Fighter," I ended up mixing it up in a comment thread with a few people whom I could only classify as Grade A Douchebags. It was the typical kind of thing; people who are basically ignorant about the thing they're offended about, easily provoked by online comments, and with a Mr. Miyagi concept of "martial arts as self defense only" bullcrap.

One of the great things about training in the boxing gym where I'm learning Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu is the rawness of it all: the occasional blood splatters on the floor; the phlegm mixed with blood stuck in the drain of the drinking fountain; the completely un-PC tee-shirts and sweatshirts proclaiming "Fighting Solves Everything," "Tap, Snap or Nap" and, as worn by one of the few women in class, "You Wish You Could Fight Like a Girl."

Walking into the gym is like briefly unplugging from the wussified city life of people who think all of life's problems can be solved by a long chat with a therapist followed by a good cry.