In Defense of American Bros
There are certain villains of society whose relative merits no one will defend. Anyone standing up for child molesters, serial killers, or members of the Bush administration would be publicly pilloried, and justifiably so. But there is another group that seems to have been added to the list, and though he is without champion, it’s about time that someone stand up for him. This aggrieved class of human is none other than the American Bro.
Just last week on this here website, the American Bro was deemed “the worst guy ever”in a scathing attack that called into question not only his behavior but also his existence. This article paints the picture of a man who lives only to consume and impress, someone who wants to leave his mark on everything, not just the women whose tits he jizzes all over and the gutters that he vomits into after one too many craft beers, but on everything at every moment. He is loud and aggressive, not because he actually has something to say but because he wants to steal that moment—and your attention—for himself.
And what is so wrong with that? That is what men do. That is what men have always done. The problem is not the bro but the society in which he lives. This used to be a great country, a country that made things. America used to produce crops and clocks and cars. Who made all these things? Who ran the farms and worked union jobs in factories and provided for their children? Who were the bikers, cowboys, construction workers, and other Village People archetypes we prized? Men. They got to take this atavistic need to stamp a little bit of themselves onto everything and put it out there into the world. They made your cotton, soldered your TV sets, and tightened the bolts on the first space craft to make it to the moon. They not only manned the tanks that rid the world of Nazis, they drove them too—a dozen men in uniform with their bodies pressed against each other fighting for freedom.
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In Defense of American Bros

There are certain villains of society whose relative merits no one will defend. Anyone standing up for child molesters, serial killers, or members of the Bush administration would be publicly pilloried, and justifiably so. But there is another group that seems to have been added to the list, and though he is without champion, it’s about time that someone stand up for him. This aggrieved class of human is none other than the American Bro.

Just last week on this here website, the American Bro was deemed “the worst guy ever”in a scathing attack that called into question not only his behavior but also his existence. This article paints the picture of a man who lives only to consume and impress, someone who wants to leave his mark on everything, not just the women whose tits he jizzes all over and the gutters that he vomits into after one too many craft beers, but on everything at every moment. He is loud and aggressive, not because he actually has something to say but because he wants to steal that moment—and your attention—for himself.

And what is so wrong with that? That is what men do. That is what men have always done. The problem is not the bro but the society in which he lives. This used to be a great country, a country that made things. America used to produce crops and clocks and cars. Who made all these things? Who ran the farms and worked union jobs in factories and provided for their children? Who were the bikers, cowboys, construction workers, and other Village People archetypes we prized? Men. They got to take this atavistic need to stamp a little bit of themselves onto everything and put it out there into the world. They made your cotton, soldered your TV sets, and tightened the bolts on the first space craft to make it to the moon. They not only manned the tanks that rid the world of Nazis, they drove them too—a dozen men in uniform with their bodies pressed against each other fighting for freedom.

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How to Get Laid at the Gym
By Brian Moylan. Photos by Ben Ritter.
It’s only January 2 and your New Year’s resolution is already screwed. Look at you, bumming cigarettes from your friends, having just one toke before you go to work, and huffing glue in the bathroom like no one is going to notice when you walk back to your desk with heavy lids and a faintly chemical smell about you. Well, I’m here to help.
One of the most common resolutions (after always remembering to take your birth control pills and not texting your ex at 3 AM) is losing weight and going to the gym more often. But no one really wants to do that. Cupcakes taste so good and a Game of Thrones marathon is way more inviting than a bunch of crazy-looking machines that make you contort your body like a monkey at the circus. But what if you could get laid every time you went to the gym? It’s possible. Every time. Here are some tips.
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How to Get Laid at the Gym

By Brian Moylan. Photos by Ben Ritter.

It’s only January 2 and your New Year’s resolution is already screwed. Look at you, bumming cigarettes from your friends, having just one toke before you go to work, and huffing glue in the bathroom like no one is going to notice when you walk back to your desk with heavy lids and a faintly chemical smell about you. Well, I’m here to help.

One of the most common resolutions (after always remembering to take your birth control pills and not texting your ex at 3 AM) is losing weight and going to the gym more often. But no one really wants to do that. Cupcakes taste so good and a Game of Thrones marathon is way more inviting than a bunch of crazy-looking machines that make you contort your body like a monkey at the circus. But what if you could get laid every time you went to the gym? It’s possible. Every time. Here are some tips.

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Swole - Photos by Ben Ritter
Is this the strongest photo gallery we’ve ever had on VICE?

Swole - Photos by Ben Ritter

Is this the strongest photo gallery we’ve ever had on VICE?