Talker... With their mouths always open, shouting sentences, hypothesis and theory.
Filling up their mouths with senseless words.
Look closer: the mouth is open, but the brain is empty and dried.
Underneath this layer of words there are no ideas, no actions, no substance.
Push mute on the remote and watch them drown in their own ocean of useless word.
Here we are. I promised you I was going to write about the most important band in the world and this is it... This is the first part (out of three?) of the posts dedicated to the biggest band in the world.
I'm not talking about Isis or Tool.
And I'm not talking about Pink Floyd...
Unfortunately, this band doesn't exist anymore, but a decade ago it was firing up every stage they touched. And people still remember it and its members. They were five awesome men: they melted their mind and their ability in order to create the perfect music creature. After a while they lost one and they were four, but still they were awesome.
They were called ROCKWOOL.
It was my band. My glorious band.
Everything started in (circa) 1997 when a really good old friend of mine decided to learn to play guitar. We were sharing the same fine musical taste and we were (and we still are) friend since the kindergarten. The obvious move was to play together. I was the """"expert"""" of the two because at that moment I have had already a couple of bands (with also one live experience with the legendary thrash band "Agonia" (feel free to use sarcasm here [note to myself: write a post about Agonia, because they deserve more attention]).
The guy was known as "Bumby", and we'll stick with this name...
We started to play together in his garage. We were playing classic metal/thrash covers and we were writing our own songs.
But we were still a duo, and our future at that point wasn't so bright... We had a name though. After a couple of discussions, we decided to call the band Titty Twister. I came out with the name: one night I was watching the movie "From dusk till down" and the name was there... The epiphany: the name of the band must be Titty Twister...
After three, maybe four, months in this situation, we found a singer... At least the guy promised us he was singer...
Even better, the dude had also a place that we could use as studio... It just required some "little" re-modernization works... No problem, we were on it. We weren't afraid to get dirty and clean it up. The dynamic duo was so excited that we just went for it, without asking any further info...
Shame on us...
It turned out that the place was an old decaying country-house, used to store hay and chickens and other random animals... Moreover, inside there was no heating system, the walls were falling apart, there were no windows and the electric line was from the early 1900 (I'm not kidding: probably Tesla made it)...
But we didn't give up. We were the fuckin' Titty Twister: we were unstoppable. With a lot a patience, a lot of work, a lot of beers and especially a lot of money (and all of this framed by a lot of blasphemy [long story short: jesus itself came down a couple of time to see why we were using his name so often]), we transformed the place in a studio.
During the studio construction, another really good friend of us joined us and helped a lot.
His name is Mirko, and he became the fifth "unofficial" member of the band: he have never played a single notes in his entire life, but every show we did he was there, helping us, having a lot of fun and enjoying a lot of free beers. During the preparation of the studio, we also found a drummer: Roby. He was cool, we knew him and he was ready to play. We couldn't ask any better! Anyway... After one months the studio was ready: new painted walls, new windows, new electric line and even a rented mixer and amplification system. We moved our gears there and we were ready to go. At that point, the singer/owner of the place came to us saying "Listen guys, I am like going to Germany forever, and you should move all this stuff out of here because my father is getting mad...". I mean, c'mon!!!!!! You're fuckin' moving out of the fuckin' country and you're not telling us?? We were in your muddy backyard (very country by the way) for one month and you or your father never said a single word about that? ...and now we have to get the fuck out of here? We were mad. We were angry. We were desperate. Lucky for us, karma kicked back, and thanks to Roby, in one shot we found: a place were we could build a new studio, a singer and a second guitar player. That was it. That was the moment. The most important moment for the Titty Twister-future-Rockwool and for the rest of the music in the world. [To be continued] RATM, "Bombtrack": one of our first cover...
- I signed for the El Scorcho: 50 nightly km in the Texan' heat. Is gonna be awesome!
- I really would like to climb on real rock. Or at least in a gym assholes-free...
- ...but if the gym is assholes-free, I couldn't be able to go inside. That's a paradigm.
- I can get inked!! This is a good news.
- "If you don make a friend now, one might make you
so learn the gentle art of making enemies"
- The best satisfaction of yesterday was to tell to those loser-jealous-jerks out there the result of the ultra. I won, you've lost fucker.
(Ok, this part requires an explanation. I'm running for myself, and not for showing my medals like a lot of douchebags do. But: if you told me in my fucking face "You'll never been able to do it..." and -booom- at my first fucking ultra I got a really fucking good position [the 3rd fuckin' position of my category] and time, sorry fucker, but I have to shout it in your fucking face. [and by the way, this is the environment in which I live every fucking day, and it corrodes from inside {sorry for all the fuck-words}])
- A picture of a cute wallaby. - I told you yesterday, and I'll repeat today: if you haven't done yet, listen to Les Claypool's duo te twan. - Running in the evening was less painful. That's it folks. It's always funny until someone gets hurt, and then it's just hilarious...
It took 4 hours, 18 minutes and 47 seconds. A lot of sweat, a couple of cramps and a huge blister.
Totally worth it: 25th out of 451 ultra-runners and I got the third place of my class. [yes, I'm bragging]
It was pretty hard: it was warm and there were a lot of up-hill.
Honestly speaking, I think I've made a mistake: I was too fast in the first 20 km (an average of 4:15/km... I was like 1 hour and 25 minutes at the half marathon [and by the way, I beat my own record -__- ]), and I paid it later, but it's ok... Now I know. I've found two things really cool. One: when you're wearing the big sign "ultra" on your shirt, people look at you with respect. And this is kind of cool: it's like a positive ego boost... And you need it. Second: between ultra-runners there is no "bad competition" at all. They cheer you up and you cheer them up. And when is done, they are really friendly: they talk and they ask you things, impressions, etc... Kind of unusual. At least is kind of unusual for me that I'm not people-friendly. Maybe this is because they(I) know how much it cost to be trained for that insanity and in some way you share all the pain and the sacrifice. Ok, I'll stop here: I'm really happy and proud of myself. Every once in a while it happens to me too... Oh, I'm also proud of someone else. I'm really proud of my 350$-worth car. My car made it to Fort Worth and back. Good job! I'm in a good mood (let's see if i can keep it to the end of the day), so here something nice from Les* and co.:
*Please, make a favor to yourself: buy Les Claypool's duo te twang "Four foot shack".
If you're into hard core/punk scene, then you know what DIY means. If so, skip this.
But if you don't know, sit down and listen: you may learn something.
DIY means Do It Yourself.
And that's pretty much it.
It's pretty simple to understand. Do whatever you have/want/need to do by yourself.
Don't wait for someone to help you, don't be scared to try to do it, be a man/woman and do it. Don't be a baby.
Whatever you have to do it.
Don't be a frightened pussy too scared or too lazy to do something by yourself. Always waiting for someone else for help. I'm really sick and tired of these pseudo humans crying and complaining about the fact that they need help. Disgusting lazy amebas. You don't deserve any help. You know what? You are a parasite.
Help yourself. If you don't even try, you have already lost.
...and if you don't know how to do it: use your brain, read, study, evolve.
Research it's like climbing or running ultra marathons.
You have to keep going: you don't stop and you don't give up.
If you fall, you stand up and start again. Like in climbing.
If you're tired, it doesn't matter, you keep going. Like for ultras.
If you make a little mistake you start again from the beginning. Like in climbing.
If you loose your focus you won't see the end. Like for ultras.
If you're not precise, it won't work. Like in in climbing.
If you don't use your brain you will never get over it. Like in ultras.
Etc, etc...
...and what about those folks with a constant smile on their face even when there are no apparent reasons for smiling?
What's their problem? Why they are constantly smiling?
I mean: you are in line waiting for something and you smile: why?
Or: you got your coffee at the Starbucks and you smile like you just won that fucking coffee... No sir, you've paid for it.
Perhaps you're amazed because the guy at the Starbucks gave you the coffee... Wrong again, it's his job, it wasn't a favor because you're cute or you smell good... Stop smiling and move over my face.
Or even worst: you have just made a huge mistake while you were trying to do your job, and you smile... Why? Stop laughing and try to repair the damage. Or at least say "sorry"... You know what? Just get the fuck out, you and your stupid smile are just useless.
Right now there are 7,117 songs waiting for me in my computer.
21,1 days of music.
I have something like 6,000 CDs, 1,000 LPs and a ton of MCs at home.
But still, every three months I don't know what to listen.
I've started really young to listen to music, and I need to thanks my parents for that.
My first album was Iron Maiden, from the band Iron Maiden. I was 6 years old.
I didn't have any idea of what "heavy metal" was: I remember I saw Eddie' face on the Maiden' LP at the record store and it was love at first sight.
Then I went home: I put (my mum actually did it) the record on and "Prowler" was on the air.
Booom! From that moment I knew that that was the shit!
For years, Iron Maiden was the only music for me. Then I grew up, and I discovered thrash with Metallica and Megadeth... Then death metal, black metal... Basically, everything with the word "metal" in it.
But it wasn't enough, and I started to go in other field: electronic, classic, jazz...
Long story short, right now I'm listening basically any kind of music.
But I mean real music, not shitty-hit-MTV-pop things. Real music made by real musician with the purpose of making music and not money. I mean, Rihanna (the first name that I have in mind now): is that music? Come on...
Anyway... However, even though I can listening basically everything I want, every three months, the big dilemma arrives, and the question is "What I'm going to listen today?" and the answer is "I don't have anything that I like...". Since I need music to be functional (meaning to be able to ignore everything is bothering me from the outside world of everyday), the presence of music during my day is pretty vital. And when these periods arrive I'm pretty down. Off course there is a background of bands that I'm constant listening to, like Isis, Neurosis, Mike Patton and a couple of others, but sometimes I need something else. And if I cannot find something I get mad, and the research starts: I spend days listening to very weird stuff, sometimes very far away from the normal definition of "music"... ...and the research keeps going on and on for weeks, until I find something that I really like and in that moment I -finally!- reach the peace. So, now I'm in one of these "research periods": I don't know what to listen... Very frustrating.* Here, Larry and his flask. Great band, buy their albums, they really deserve it!! (...and watch them live: they kick ass! I've actually shared a Shiner with the up-right bass player!)
*I know, people outside are dying because of starvation or wars or diseases, but don't bother me, this one is a lightweight post...
So yesterday there was this climbing comp at the gym and I can't avoid to write something mean about that...
To be clear, I won't complain about national/official comps here, but about the classic gym-comps, where there is nothing of official and everything is just for "having fun".
Let me start with this statement: I did several climbing-comps in the past. My first climbing-comp was a lead-comp (I'm pretty sure it was in 1998). Why lead and not a bouldering one? Simply because back in the day, bouldering wasn't an option. It was still a pre-boulder era... How old was that, uh?
Anyway, after that one, I've done several others comps: I've traveled for them, I've spent money for the comps, etc...
So, you maybe wonder why I was doing it. Honestly, I'm not sure. Comps are off course a good training session, but this is not the real reason. I don't even like compete against others, and off course, I've never done one with the goal of winning it... To be really honest, I was competing maybe because I was thinking that if you really want to be part of the "climbing scene" you have to do it.
I was young and stupid.
Now I'm still stupid, but I'm older, and with age comes wisdom, so I've stopped with the comps.
Not only I've stopped: I'm staying really far away from them.
I don't like (hate? Yeah, let's go with hate), I hate climbing comps for several reasons. First of all, they are not funny. I don't see how I could enjoy climbing on plastic, in a crowded-restricted-smelly-dusty-warm area. And this is the second reason: the people. The worst from climbers: they are all there, packed and concentrated in few square feet. All my nightmares in one single shot. Assholes with no shirt on, screaming and yelling and panting and bragging and screaming again. Another reason is the climbing itself, that really sucks. If you're trying to climb, you have to stay in line and wait for your turn. And off course, there is always someone skipping the line (and I'm italian, so I'm really a pro in that field). And when is finally your turn, the holds are all sweat and polished. And if you fall, you actually fall on people... I could go on and on for hours. Oh, and now with Facebook and Twitter everything is over-enhanced: thousands of pictures followed by thousand of ashtags (don't worry, I will also complaining about you ashtaggers in a specific post) of douchebags screaming and showing off they muscles. This is not climbing. This is a circus.
Climbers ready for the comp.
I will end here. The take home message is: climbing-comps suck.
Dante Alighieri, its author, was telling it already 700 years ago: we don't have to live like animal, but we have to reach out for the knowledge.
And how we can do that? How we can learn things? How can we discover the universe in which we are living in?
With Science.
Simple.
But...
People complain a lot about Science.
They say Science is bad.
They say Science is Evil.
They say Science kills.
People must stop complaining about Science, because if they can complain, it's just because of Science.
It's because of Science if they are still alive and if they can do basically everything with a very low effort.
Instead of complaining, they should say thank you to Science everyday, because every single day Science is helping them and is making their existence so much easier.
Moreover, what is really amazing about those complainers is that they don't have the competences and the knowledge for complaining. But they are doing it anyway: "Yeah, fuck it! Let's complaining about something that we totally don't know."...
Oh, and by the way, most of the time, for a better complaining, they use the word "god", just to underline better how huge is their ignorance.
Ok, let me tell you this loud and clear: there is no god or other magical creature doing Science.
My grandfather taught me the passion and the love for Science.
Since I'm -again/still- too busy to even think about something to write, here is a list of random thoughts that I had during the day (so far)...
You can use them if you want...
- I love Primus. (this one took me to the next one)
- Hunting season is on! (at 5:00 a.m. catching the first cockroach of the 2014)
- Please, shut the fuck up! (all day long to different folks)
- Mark Maron' podcast is food for mind. (seriously: listen to it!)
- Stupid pro-climbers: they are going to climb with a complete photo-studio set in their bag. (watching a video of Jimmy Webb in Hueco)
- Man, the dude is stroooong... (watching the same video)
- 5 microliters my ass...
- I need a massage.
- I'm hungry. (every 5 minutes)
- I'm angry. (every 2 minutes)
- It's time for some Megadeth!
- Dave Mustaine could be a nice pet. (related to the previous thought, but don't ask me why)
- If you don't like to read, or you don't have books in the apartment/house/shelter/card box where you live, you're an empty person and you disgust me.
...ok that's it.
Down, Stone the crow, from the album Nola: fuckin' A!
Brief (because I'm really busy [ah, science...]) consideration about solo climbing...
I've watched the new video of Alex Honnold on "El sendero luminoso" (here).
Solo climbing of a 2,500 ft. with a 5.12d in the middle.
Oh yeah, nice, good job, high five...
We know you can do it, and congrats on that...
But... I don't think solo-climbing is a good thing for climbing, in general...
We spent years trying to explain that climbing is a pretty much safe activity, trying to teach to kids that you can climb whatever you want but please use the right protections and be safe, and thousands of other wonderful words...
Then some dude comes, climbs some really hard stuff rope-less, and all those wonderful words are gone...
These kind of things attract the attention of general douchebags, that will try to the same. But statistic teaches me that out there there not too many Alex Honnold, and a lot of those rope-less douchebags will die... And what will happen? It will happen that media will attack climbing saying that is dangerous, not safe, etc. etc., and we will be again at the starting point, trying to explain that climbing is safe and not dangerous and blah blah blah...
Can you see the loop?
...and talking about statistic: soon or later, one crimp will break or one foot will loose.
Ok, dying doing what you really love is really romantic and poetic, but...
I'm really psyched and I'm getting ready: I'm tapering right now even though I hate it.
I'm also trying to stretch more, but I think I hate more stretching than the taper thing (here)...
I need to study a little bit the course to figure out when I'll be supposed to eat and drink and all that kind of stuffs...
I'm also curious to see how my pace will be... Usually it's incredible how different are the pace during the normal training and the one of the race day, but with this long distances, maybe everything will be different.
In this case also the concentration and the mind status play an important role. But that's one of the reason of why I love this sh!t: it's not only a matter of moving my legs...
In general these last 11 days will be very important to get me in the perfect shape for the race: it's hard to find the perfect balance between being not too tired but also not too relaxed.
Ok, we need more extreme music in our daily diet, and this is why:
when extreme music is the soundtrack of your normal life, everything is better.
extreme music wakes you up when you're sleeping.
extreme music relaxes you when you need to relax.
during a live performance of your favorite extreme band, the mosh-pit is the best anti-stress therapy ever: you can actually punch random people in the face without any legal consequences (but be ready to be punched in the face as well).
there is no better way to bother someone: just play really loud some really extreme bands. Success guarantee.
extreme music buffers you from everything that is coming from the outside world: put your headphones on, press play and pump up the volume. Problem solved: now you're invincible.
point number 6 works also on people: outside is full of assholes ready to bother you. Nothing will happen if you are listening to you're favorite extreme band.
sometimes you are not angry enough, so extreme music is there for helping you. It enhances your level of anger.
in the opposite way, when you are too angry, extreme music helps you to calm down.
is the best music ever created.
So, please: we need more extreme music!
I came out with the idea of this post this morning, when I woke up whit this wonderful song stuck in my mind:
...a happy way to start the day!
Ok, maybe I was joking a little bit up there, but seriously: this is the music that I really need in order to keep my balance.
As always, people is extremely ignorant and they will complain that this is not even music but only noise.
I could start a long explanation on why they are soooooo wrong and why this is not "noise", but if you really think in that way, then you don't deserve my attention (and probably you will never understand my explanation because you're just a stupid asshole).
Yesterday I made my personal on the 10 km distance (not during a race, just regular training).
While I was in the middle of it, I checked my pace, and I was doing 3:52/km.
That was exactly my personal record on the 1 km when I was 7 years old. How cute was that?
One year later, my personal was 3:15.
...and I could go on and on.
We are climbers, or runners, or whatever and we're living in the constant search of numbers: times, paces, grades... With that in our mind we forget why we're trying to beat those number. We forget that we're doing something just because we love it.
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
and then one day you find ten years have got behind you
no one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun
Note: if your name is Chris Sharma or Adam Ondra you can skip this post.
If not, please read.
I will describe here another kind of infestation that affects every climbing gyms and climbing areas all around the world.
I will talk about the classic hominid that screams and yells during its favorite activity.
For scientific reasons, I will refer to the specimen as "Screaming Monkey" (SM).
The SM can be found in every gym and crag and boulder area all around the world.
In 98% of the cases, the SM is a young male, often half naked (for more details, please read here) even though sporadically, also females have been described.
The principal characteristic of the SM is its ability to scream and yell like a wounded dinosaur while is climbing.
The only purpose of the scream is to attract the attention of other people. In its mind, those terrible sounds have the meaning of "Look at me how giga-awesome I am!" and "Look at what incredible and amazing things I'm doing on this wall...". Unfortunately for it, nobody really cares about what is doing; however it will keep to emit its loud noises.
Moreover, the noise is also used in general by the SM to announce is presence to the rest of the climber population present in loco, especially to mates of opposite sex and/or in case of crowded areas.
Usually, the intensity and the frequency of its screams are proportionally correlated to the intensity of its climbing. In other words, with the increase of the difficulty of the climbing, will be an increase of the noise pollution.
In general, the noise of the SM can be categorized in four different groups:
1) The Argh: usually is a single short and loud scream. This sound is generally used during the most difficult passage of whatever the SM is climbing. The Argh is shouted in the fatal moment in which the SM is holding the key crimp of the thing is climbing. The Argh is used by the SM as a snapshot of the moment.
2) The S(h)n (with the variant of S(h)nahh): this is the classic sound of a pumped SM. This is a noise produced when the SM is climbing a very long climbing. In its imagination, the 5 feet pitch that is climbing is a mille-long 5.15. The S(h)n is emitted with regular intervals in order to show its stamina. Usually, bigger is the number of "h" used in the noise, longer is the pitch.
3) The Bwaaaaa: this is the classic sound of the last move. When the SM is at the last move of the pitch or boulder and is really pumped usually utilizes this sound. Unfortunately for it, nobody cares what is doing, so it will shout a really loud Bwaaaaa to show everybody at what point it is. Statistically, after the Bwaaaaa, the SM fails the move whit the consequence of an inglorious fall.
4) The Muah (sometimes also Buah): this is a classic sound of desperation. The SM is trying something really, really over it's own possibilities, and it knows that. The noise is usually emitted at a high frequency because all the muscles of the SM are contracted. The Muah is not even a sound: it's more like an involuntary expulsion of air from the SM's lungs. Just like the gas expelled by a corpse when subjects to a pressure.
In conclusion, even though completely innocuous, often the SM sounds ridiculous and can embarrass yourself and all the their climbers that are trying to enjoy their favorite activity.
Therefore, I think is the responsibility of the whole mankind to stop this infestation before it will be too late.
It's the picture of the planet Earth, the planet in which we're living, taken by the rover Curiosity from Mars (click here for the details).
This picture gives the perfect idea of how insignificant we are.
The Universe could go on without us, without problem.
I don't see any sign of god in this picture. I think it will be a little selfish from anyone claiming that this is something created by some "magical" creature/entity.
There is nothing. We are just a stochastic event between a billion of other stochastic events.
Most of the time they fill their mouths with empty/stupid/useless sentences.
Like parrots in a cage they talk and talk and talk and talk. So annoying.
I usually don't talk. I'm literally counting the words I'm saying during the day, and sometimes the final score is zero. I'm a kind of proud of this.
The point is: if I don't have anything to say, I don't say anything.
Please, do the same. Stop talking and enjoy the silence.
And if you really have to say something, please turn on the bluetooth and synchronize your mouth with brain: something smart could come out from the lowest hole of your face.
And here's another problem: usually your words are useless, and most of the time stupid. You don't sound smart at all.
Mine are probably stupid too, but at least I'm not saying anything.
So, this morning I went running and it was raining a lot.
...and I'm not talking about just a regular raining. I'm talking about the Great Flood 100% original from the bible...
Anyway, this apocalyptic weather gave me the idea for this post.
Long story short: whatever I'm doing out there, everything is better when the weather sucks.
Read this:
"This morning I ran 10 miles..."
Pretty lame right?
...now read this:
"This morning I ran 10 miles in a snow storm chased by hungry Siberian wolves..."
Can you see the difference? Pretty awesome right? Yes! And why? Because of the weather (and the wolves too, ok...).
When is raining or snowing, or too cold to freeze my face or hot as hell, I love to go out there and do something.
Why? Because everything is more epic when the weather is terrible.
My best climbing memories are related to some extreme weather conditions, as well as my best runs.
For example, the best 50 km I've run so far was a couple of months ago when I was fighting against the wind trying to stay on my feet and keep running...
Or for example I love running when there's a tornado alert: if I have the chance, I'm going out to run. I love the smell of a coming storm, feel the wind and see this wall of clouds coming towards me. It's like I'm challenging the nature.
And the same thing with climbing.
I remember when I was climbing, many years ago, at Tre frati in Finale (Italy) and suddenly it started to snow: it was so epic! The forest was so quite, and everything was so perfect... Or another time, I was bouldering alone in a cave called Grotta delle fate in Val d'Inferno (Italy), when a summer lighting-storm hit me: I was fine and relatively safe and I kept climbing, and it was so magic and epic!!
So, I don't know why I have this thing, but that's why I want to run the Marathon des sables and the Bad water ultra...
I have this suicidal instinct to challenge the nature.
But the reality is that I'm just stupid.
I was talking about wind and storms. Immortal did it for me:
I'm always complaining about what I'm doing: this never ending battle with science and the world around it*.
But then I look at sick people, and I wonder: is it worth? The answer is: yes, it is.
To all you healthy spoiled brats: stop complaining about your everyday shitty problems. There are human beings out there suffering for real problems, and they don't have time to listen to your bullshits.
...and if they're not suffering because of a disease, maybe they're suffering because they are leaving in a war zone, or simply because they don't have food or water (for example).
So, next time you'll be complaining about the fact that you don't have the new iPhone, or the perfect shoes for running 5 fucking miles, or the perfect and balanced meal, please shut the fuck up.
Let's talk about a worldwide plague that infects thousands of climbing gym and other sports.
Let's talk about those shirtless douchebags out there.
My question is: why? Why do you have to remove your t-shirt?!
I think you are just a douchebag.
Here a couple of points to proof my theory.
First: we don't need to see your hairy chest or your amazing nipples. Maybe you are proud of them, but we are fine, thank you.
Second: what's the purpose here? Without the t-shirt, are you lighter? Yes? Really? Well, if this is the reason, I think you're using t-shirts made with the wrong material. ...or maybe it's just a matter of temperatures: the gym is too warm. And also outside is always too warm. Here's a solution: why don't you migrate in a colder area?
Third: if you're running with no shirt, wearing just a pair of tiny running-pants, you're a freak. Do you know that? You look like a maniac: 90% naked, all sweat and panting, apparently chasing people in a park. Do you have the picture now?
Forth: let's say that you're climbing and you're trying something really hard. Maybe you're close to send it. Why do you have to remove your shirt? I don't see the point: with no shirt, does the thing you're trying become easier? What kind of sorcery is that?! Good to know! Next time I'll be doing a really hard and tricky experiment, I will remove my shirt... Shirtless science rocks...
Fifth: and what about the pants? If no shirt means climbing/running/whatever harder and better, then wouldn't be better also with no pants? ...and how about naked? How about you skin yourself? The total weight of human epidermis is pretty much 20 pounds: skinless you'll be 20 pounds lighter. Maybe will hitch a little bit, but it will increase your performance...
Sixth: I get it! This is coming from your monkey-brain. You must show all your muscles in order to increase the chances of mating (with the final goal of making a new generation of shirtless douchebags). But most of the time, you don't have all those muscles... Most of the time you're a kind of shapeless flesh-bag: or too skinny or too fatty. Ergo, the chances of mating drop down drastically when you remove your shirt.
Seventh: I've seen several times those douchebags parking the car and going to the gym or to run already shirtless. Are you living like this? Are you going to work or to the supermarket without clothes? If you don't have the money for a t-shirt, I think Salvation Army can help you.
...and please, someone explains me what is the point of the combo "no t-shirt + beanie"?
Do you need to keep your brain warm, while all the blood is busy with your muscles?
I don't think you normally need blood in your brain...
So, in conclusion: evolve yourself and keep the t-shirt on.
