The movie Fight Club is almost a decade old, but the theme is still going strong. One day, Jeff of And I Am Not Lying blog got a cryptic text from his friend "Fight Club in Union Square. GET HERE." When Jeff got there, he saw hundreds of people watching people beat the tar out of each other (and apparently, having fun doing so!):
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They could have been watching some awesome breakdancing group or an unusually good street magician. But instead, two shirtless guys were flopping around on the ground, grunting and grating one another’s faces across the cobblestones. One guy pinned the other and a shirtless ref called the match. Both fighters leapt up, gave each other the universally-approved one-armed bro-hug and left the ring together, laughing.
A number of shirtless, scraped-up men paced the perimeter of the circle, alternately refereeing and answering questions. The rules were simple: find a partner, get in the ring. No face shots, tapping out ends the fight. No settling scores, just fighting for the fun of fighting. No experience or discernible skill required.
A couple of emo-hipsters in matching floppy sideways haircuts and matching white belts got into the act, proving that one does not inherit martial arts skill by simply being Asian.
One of them actually SMOKED during the fight, paradoxically making himself look both tougher and more ridiculous.