Fist-sized Dynamite

Humanity seems to have a real fixation with breaking stuff. At a very specific, individual level, you have people who are so insanely curious about the nature of something, that they pull it apart. This bizarre and backwards behaviour often ends up with the person in question growing up to be really adept at getting things to work again, or even building stuff from scratch.

(paradoxical.)

On a larger, our-world-around-us level, we have caused our own species grief through continent-sized arguments over whose definition of the Almighty is greater (no matter who you fight, they'll always say you're wrong). We've actually endangered ourselves more than any comet, volcano or deadly virus. So yes, this gives the dinosaurs the moral high ground.

(Culturally paradoxical.)

But the topic for the day? Awesomely linked into this…

BOXING GLOVES!

Yeah, that’s right – the piece of sporting equipment that has no reason to exist, and doesn’t serve any other purpose other than to make itself a ludicrous and redundant item. “What on earth are you talking about, thenick?” I hear you type. (I know that you are – I’m like The Shadow, but I don’t know what evil lurks in the hearts of men.)

“Who hears what you type at night? THENICK!

Now this is my problem: in a sport which is all about stripping down to the bare minimum, and then swinging punches at each other until someone falls down, and brute strength is a very high factor in the equation – why are we covering our fists in a big, padded glove?

-Did early boxers try to climb out of the ring in fear, and the lack of hand leaves them no grip?
-Are we afraid they’ll pinch each other?
-Is a pre-bout high five with your trainer against the rules?

Why don’t we take the gloves off, and go at it like the did in the old days? No binding, no gloves, just fist-to-face technique (that sounds almost obscene). Knuckles pounding into cheeks, the sheer force causing shockwaves through the brain, shaking it like so much pancake mix. The crunching of cartilage from the impact, flattening aquiline noses into a more putty-like consistency. And the really messed up thing? It’s all volunteer.

If I was in a fist-fight, (much like an early 80’s Michael Jackson video clip, but less dancing), I’d want my opponent to be wearing big padded mitts. But these boxers, they are there to hit and be hit! They are into the violence for the sake of the violence! WHY O WHY is there gloves?

Green Arrow, a vigilante styled on Robin Hood, dresses in a bright costume (green), carries a bow (green) and a quiver (green) full of trick arrows (gre- no, I won’t).
One of his arrows was a “boxing-glove” arrow, where the arrow head was replaced with said item. This was used to shoot people in the head without killing them. Commendable, but pretty stupid.


Ooooooh, I get it. Boxers wear them to prolong the agony.

(Not paradoxical. Just dumb.)

Q: Current relationship status? Single and open to suggestion.
Song For The Day: "Masquerade" by HEAD Inc