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This Week In Weird Twitter, Volume 71

It’s in the hot yoga studios where the deadliest assassins known to man are forged.


Literally anyone can go into a yoga studio and begin learning the poses and techniques of one of the deadliest practices known to man. The combination of mental, physical, and spiritual exercises creates perfect killing machines. Skilled practitioners are ruthlessly efficient, calm and focused on their targets, moving unnoticed in their tactical lululemons.

It is these truths that caused J. Robert Oppenheimer, one of the fathers of the atomic bomb, to ruminate on a passage from the Bhagavad Gita upon the first successful detonation of a nuclear bomb. Though not wholly focused on yoga, the book’s section on hot yoga was particularly apropos with regard to global destruction.

For when the skilled yogi gets it hot, there is but one statement to make: “Now I am become Death, destroyer of worlds. Namaste.”

What if this had happened to Oppenheimer?

He is become Megafauna, pioneer of riding large flightless birds.

“But, babe, it’s from the Son of Sam collection.”

You know what else besides bodies that you find in the woods?

I think they’ve got a cottage.

Personally, I’d demand a second opinion.

He also has a high amount of karate in his blood.

I don’t think this qualifies as karate.

Talk about a hostile work environment.

This one, too.

Haters gonna hate.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?”

Next, assume the halfback behind quarterback position.

This guy is a next-level yogi.

Sometimes it pays to skip out on being the wingman.

Duck, duck …

You’re gonna say “goose,” aren’t you?

A storm filled with honking and feathers and destruction. Wait, no. You swoop in, Kenny Loggins and “Top Gun”-style. We’ll allow it.

These directions aren’t about you.

But he never made it to the center without biting down!

He was being chased by super-aggressive owls and geese, okay.

Tell me more about this dip.

Also a canopy.

Really we’re not. And not just because of the band.

Welcome to the jungle, we’ve got some relish and mustard.

His name is Dug and he loves you.

Who said that?

Seriously, did someone say something?

*cocks gun* This is an art.

Way ahead of you.

C’est la vie.


Dude, you need to try a Batarang.

The Batarang is kept next to this chair, but don’t be dissuaded.

This happens when we’re not ready for the hero we deserve.

People always assume spontaneous. Take time to ask questions.

When the hot part of hot yoga gets criminal.

Look, he’s trying to make a sweet cannon. Don’t cramp his style.

Well, yeah, but remember to throw up the Namaste signal.

How else would he be the hero we need?

Are bears Catholic?

Hot yoga?

These kids mastered their poses at a young age.

Not cornfield creepy, but it’s close.

Her house is a corn maze.

I’m not sure this pose is in the Gita.

I’m in.

He’s in, too.

I’m not sure these qualify as crimes, but I’ll allow it.

Wanna commit some crimes?

The path to nirvana is tricky and fraught with peril, but truly dedicated students will find enlightenment by continuing to forge ahead, breathing rhythmically, and remembering this passage of the Gita: “Even if it seems certain that you will lose, retaliate. Neither wisdom nor technique has a place in this. A real man does not think of victory or defeat. He plunges recklessly towards an irrational death. By doing this, you will awaken from your dreams.”

Wait, that’s from “The Hagakure,” but let’s just roll with that instead.