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The Breathing Breach <strong>of</strong> Etiquette<br />
limit <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> social ideals <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> body that it threatens to break down<br />
<strong>the</strong> barrier between <strong>the</strong> human body and <strong>the</strong> nonhuman body, breach<br />
<strong>the</strong> boundary between <strong>the</strong> living body and <strong>the</strong> dissected cadaver. This<br />
monstrous body threatens to take on a life <strong>of</strong> its own. An article in<br />
Muscle & Fitness titled “Monster Mash: The Sequel” reads:<br />
The strength <strong>of</strong> Frankenstein, <strong>the</strong> size <strong>of</strong> King Kong: This sequel<br />
has it all, in five muscle-building formulas. You know what happens<br />
in sequels, right? No matter how gruesome <strong>the</strong> final scene<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> first movie, no matter how much mayhem and destruction,<br />
no matter that it seemed <strong>the</strong> villain was shot, hanged, burned<br />
or o<strong>the</strong>rwise fatally wounded, somehow he rises from <strong>the</strong> grave<br />
to plunder and pillage a new crop <strong>of</strong> terrified teens. In this Musclefied<br />
sequel, our super-sized rouges are back—despite <strong>the</strong> veinpopping,<br />
muscle-crunching, will-testing trials <strong>the</strong>y endured in<br />
Part I—and ready to descend into <strong>the</strong> dungeon, known to outsiders<br />
as <strong>the</strong> gym. Yet <strong>the</strong>y aren’t on <strong>the</strong> hunt with a blade and a<br />
lust for vengeance. They’re definitely out to maim, however, through<br />
a ra<strong>the</strong>r insidious tactic: full-bore weight training. The plot twist?<br />
The type <strong>of</strong> pain our miscreants prescribe will make you stronger<br />
and bigger, perhaps a monster yourself. Dare to enter, and perhaps<br />
accomplish what many sequel “good-guys” can’t: survive for Part<br />
III. . . . No. 1: Wake your triceps from <strong>the</strong> dead. This full-on assault<br />
will make all three triceps’ heads pop out <strong>of</strong> your skin, wriggling<br />
and writhing as <strong>the</strong>y take on a life <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir own. 5<br />
As this and countless o<strong>the</strong>r advertisements and articles make clear,<br />
hardcore bodybuilders aspire to monstrosity, to breaking down <strong>the</strong> borders<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> body, losing control <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> insides <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> body, which come out<br />
to <strong>the</strong> surface wriggling and writhing as <strong>the</strong>y take on a life <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
own. This, <strong>the</strong> most regimented, disciplined, and controlled body found<br />
in our culture, <strong>the</strong> disciplined body par excellence, is a body that defies<br />
control. This skin so thin reveals <strong>the</strong> workings <strong>of</strong> arteries, <strong>the</strong> twitching<br />
<strong>of</strong> fiber, <strong>the</strong> interstices between tendon, meat, and bone. This body is<br />
meat. This body is you.<br />
So while <strong>the</strong> hardcore bodybuilder does not identify with you<br />
and your car payment, you and your mortgage, you and <strong>the</strong> growth <strong>of</strong><br />
your stock portfolio, you and <strong>the</strong> growth <strong>of</strong> your prestige among your<br />
colleagues and in your field, you identify with him and his finite flesh,<br />
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