How Many Grams?

The Manosphere and the Business of Healing

Hordes of glistening, hairless men roam the streets of Bali, shirtless. Some mornings I see them jogging around the neighbourhood in a pack. Their enlarged pecs jiggling up and down with each stride. Their lasered, greased up torsos brushing against each other as they dodge the holes in the developing footpaths. There are men's retreats here with names like ‘Time Chamber’ - inspired by Dragon Ball Z. They ban women, porn, vegans, Netflix and liquor. The glistening boys that roam the streets of Canggu make their way into the jungle to be shaped into ‘the next generation of strong men.’

Bali Time Chamber Instagram

The Instagram accounts for these retreats show men roaring in waterfalls together, men supporting other men's bare chests while they lift weights, men tearing rare meat from the bone with their teeth - all topless. It’s a homoerotic wet dream and “NO WOMEN ARE ALLOWED” as advertised in their marketing. While the brothers are out there in the jungle in a space that’s “safe for men to be men,” I wonder what goes on in the wood burning sauna. What happens in those cabins when night falls on the mountain and they don’t have access to stepsibling porn on RedTube? What happens in the manosphere? Long conversations about women drinking too much “woke juice” or the tragic loss of traditional feminine masculine roles… or groups of men ski-poling each other with the juice from a T-Bone dripping down their chins.

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