Mixing modern architecture and traditional arena theater design, the Shaolin Flying Monks Temple features a massive wind tunnel that lets combatants in rural Henan, China, fly and fight in front of hundreds of fascinated observers.

The mountainous setting is home to the historical Shaolin Monastery (UNESCO World Heritage Site) and is considered the birthplace of Zen Buddhism and the Kung Fu martial arts practice (as well as the cradle of Chinese civilization more broadly).

Designed by Latvian architect Austris Mailitis, the pavilion is designed to be both contemporary while also deferential to the region and its traditions. The designer was commissioned based on a chance meeting at the Shanghai Expo in 2010.

The mounded shape of the complex and branching, trunk-like protrusion of the tunnel take their inspiration from a translation of Shaolin, meaning: mountain in the wood.

“The architectural and conceptual image pays respect to the beauty of surrounding nature and the historical heritage of the site. Developed in the shape of two symbols – mountain and tree – it serves as a platform for any kind of scenic arts focusing especially on flying performances.”

“The building method combines modern and ancient technologies,” explained the architect” — a laser-cut steel superstructure supports stone steps handcrafted using local quarry resources.”

Traditionally legal in Peru, many citizens nonetheless find cockfights a morbid and gruesome affair and are thus celebrating the transformation of this sunken coliseum into a meditative and memorial public green space.

Paths, greenery and water features were added in part to lend the sensibilities of monuments and memorials to the place, commemorating the animals who suffered and died within the ring.

Remade by 2.8x Architects, this coliseum in Lima, Peru, has many preserved and reused elements, including large stones and cast concrete either left in place or redeployed on the property with new purposes in mind.

Since cockfighting has been historically seen a sport in the region (and heavily bet upon), bird fighting pits (aka “cockpits”) in the country have been correspondingly prominent and well-constructed places, not the seedy sideshows one may imagine in locations where it is illegal. The driving idea was to reflect the history of the space in the form of preserved ruins while also providing a new experience in this unusually enclosed, semi-subterranean space.

One can still imagine the historical horrors that took place before the conversion – armed with spurs for battle, cocks set about slashing and scraping one another, often resulting in the death of one or both combatants. At the same time, an abstracted yin-and-yang symbol at the center of the sunken circle and lush vegetation on all sides (filling the former stands and seats) conjure fresh and more optimistic feelings and associations among neighbors and visitors.

From the designers: “So the curved lines of the terraces contemplated in the project go on top of the remaining concrete stands, and the levels of these terraces try to maintain the original levels of some of the stands. This way the proportions of the coliseum continue. In the same way, the central space of the garden keeps the same dimensions and characteristics of the arena where the birds used to fight. The project has as background the hills of the residential area. It is because of the surroundings where the project is located, with hills all around, that we chose irregular “talamolle” stone as the main building material.”

“We also used terrazzo, concrete, and green painted iron for some details like the fountain, the circular bench, the wire net, and the ramp at the entry among others. To reinforce the idea of a memorial garden and a place suitable for meditation, elements such as water, a circular ramp all around, and a curved path of stone crossing the central space were included. The path together with the central circular garden form the ying yang, that is the equilibrium center of the whole space. At night the diffused illumination has an important role too.”

It’s well known that smashing something – a dish, a TV, a watermelon, or whatever else is within reach – is great therapy when you’re stressed. All over the world, clubs and organizations are popping up for the sole purpose of bringing frustrated people together to smash stuff. But there is nothing else quite like The Destruction Company, an exclusive private club in New Jersey that allows wealthy people to whack the stuffing out of just about anything.

(all images via: Daily Mail)

The Destruction Company is not your run-of-the-mill plate-smashing operation. It’s an exclusive club based in a secret New Jersey warehouse that is open only to the most wealthy clients. The club allows its members to seek revenge on the objects they most despise: technology, automobiles, or maybe those dumb little knick-knacks your ex-wife was always fussing over.

For a confidential annual fee (plus the cost of whatever the member decides to wail on) rich folks can destroy expensive electronics, cars, clothing – as long as it’s not a living creature or documents of any kind, The Destruction Company will acquire the target object. Less imaginative members can pick from a pre-set list of smashable items. On the day of the smash-fest, a chauffeured car comes around to pick up the club member and take him to a private warehouse. He can choose from a number of protective outfits – umpire, hockey goalie, medieval knight – and weapons – we imagine samurai swords are a popular option.

The party then moves to the roof of the abandoned warehouse, where the club member is free to go nuts on the chosen object. Cameras capture the destruction and members are sent home with video records of their exploits so they can re-live their moments of glory at home. As in any good human vs. object fight club, there are a few restrictions: no fire, no guns, no drinking or drugs on the day of the smash-up. But don’t think you can fight your way into this club; membership is only granted with sponsorship from an existing member. And this is no boys’ club – club representatives say that around 40 percent of their members are females. Even ladies need to let their inner Hulk out once in a while.

Although some may see this blatant wastefulness as a crime against humanity (or maybe a boon for the economy), it would seem to be a better use of disposable income than nightclubs and sushi. According to the club’s administrators, The Destruction Company isn’t about violence; it’s about experiencing freedom from the objects that vex you the most.

Sometimes it seems like the world’s one big Animal House, with tens of thousands of Bluto’s just itching to pop. Wasteful? Possibly. Mean-spirited? Not in the least! These 10 famous festival food fights are all about respecting tradition and blowing off steam… so let he who is without stain throw the first rotten tomato!

The Battle of the Oranges, Ivrea, Italy

(images via: Europe Euphoria)

The Battle of the Oranges (Battaglia delle Arance), which takes place annually in the Italian city of Ivrea, is certainly the largest and quite possibly the oldest organized food fight in Italy. The event’s origins go back to the 12th century and commemorate the victory of Ivrea’s townspeople over an oppressive tyrant. Here’s a video showing scenes of the battle in all its juicy glory:

(image via: The Ugly Truth)

Oranges haven’t always been the weapon of choice in the annual battle – at first beans were thrown, then apples. By the 19th century oranges took over as the preferred missiles and by 1994 an estimated 580,000 lbs (265,000 kilograms) of oranges – mainly unmarketable leftovers from southern Italy’s winter crop – were being imported into town for the start of the Carnevale d’Ivrea in February. On an explanatory note, Italy is a member of the EEC (the European Economic Community) and typically exceeds its agreed production quota of oranges. In a classic twist of Euro-logic, the excess must be destroyed in order to maintain the retail price.

La Merengada (Meringue War), Vilanova i La Geltrú, Catalonia

(images via: Frommers, Vilanova Digital and Wirdheim In Vilanova)

Also known as the Batalla de Caramelos (Candy Fight), this sweet celebration begins each year on Fat Thursday… of course. Residents and guests in this small Catalonian town first enjoy a traditional Lenten meal of cod fish with red pepper sauce and salad; then work off the calories by going outside and throwing their meringue dessert at anything that moves. Once they run out of meringue, out comes the candy, which (if you’re under 12) is just dandy. Hey, that’s one VERY happy kid there!

(image via: Daniel Bartoll)

The Meringue War is just one part of the Carnival at Vilanova i La Geltrú, as on the Saturday before Shrove Tuesday, revelers of all ages endeavor to catch tons of sweets and candies which are launched into the crowd. Needless to say, the ground underfoot is quickly coated with a sticky, sugary topping thick enough to give every scavenging squirrel in the county a serious case of diabetes.

La Tomatina en Reno, Reno, NV, USA

(images via: Suite 101)

Who loves a tomato fight? Everyone loves a tomato fight! They must – or else we wouldn’t have not one, not two, but THREE massive ‘mato massacres making our Top 10 Food Fights list. We’ll lead off with La Tomatina en Reno, by far the sloppiest event in the “Biggest Little City in the World”. Inspired by the original Tomatina food fight in Buñol, Spain, Reno’s version matches 5,000 participants with 100,000 pounds of tomatoes – and everyone’s a winner!

Here’s La Tomatina en Reno up close and personal… maybe a little TOO personal:

(images via: Travel + Leisure)

The event takes place the last weekend of August and only overripe, inedible Roma tomatoes are tossed… which is better than simply tossing them in the trash. La Tomatina organizer Club Cal Neva charges a $10 per participant fee and if you’d like to chuck produce at the Mayors of Reno and/or nearby Sparks (and really, who wouldn’t?), you’ll have to “fork” over $50. All profits from the event go to a good cause: the American Cancer Society.

La Raima Grape Throwing Festival, Pobla del Duc, Spain/

(images via: MSN Travel and FestivalPig)

Welcome to Spain, we hope you’ve brought a change of clothing! This advisory is especially important if you’re considering a visit to the town of Pobla del Duc, less then an hour from Valencia, around the last Friday in August. Should you find yourself there, note the steady procession of trucks loaded with grapes – they’re not bound for any warehouse or processing plant. Between 40 and 90 tons of locally grown Garnacha Tintorera grapes are off-loaded in the town square and as for what happens next… remember the classic grape-throwing scene from I Love Lucy? Multiply it by about a thousand.

(image via: Somewhere In The World Today)

The La Raima Grape Throwing Festival is an yearly ritual dating back to the 1930s that signals the end of the annual grape harvest. The food fight originated when grape farmers blew off steam at the end of the grape harvest by flinging surplus grapes at each other. Sweet!

World Custard Pie Championship, Coxheath, UK

(images via: Emma Wood Photos)

Fans of the Marx Brothers and Blazing Saddles can live out their pie in the sky fantasies by attending the World Custard Pie Championship in Coxheath, UK. No, this is not a bake-off, nor is it an athletic competition judged by distance and accuracy. Imagine a huge, open-air paintball game using giant, edible paintballs… and to those who object, say let ’em eat cake!

(images via: Anorak, Free Republic and Falmouth Packet)

The World Custard Pie Championship got its start in 1967 by Mike Fitzgerald, a city councillor from Coxheath, envisioned a festive event inspired by his favorite Charlie Chaplin films. It’s said that the custard that goes into the pies (and onto the pie-tossers) employs a secret recipe designed to hold together through flinging, hurling, and of course – landing. Fair-goers are advised that they enter the area at their own risk, and those who disregard the warning end up getting their just desserts.

La Tomatina, Sutamarchan, Colombia

(image via: Oddity Central)

When in Sutamarchan, do as the Sutamarchanians do… and that’s put on Colombia’s biggest, messiest and tomatoiest food fight EVAR. The event, held on June 14 this year, featured hundreds of locals and tourists who gathered on an old football (soccer) field and proceeded to launch 15 tons of tomatoes into the sky. Of course, what goes up must come down. Like La Tomatina en Reno, La Tomatina in Sutamarchan was inspired by the famous Tomatina of Buñol, Spain. The Colombian version adds a few variations, however, such as adding a tomato-eating contest and a competition for the largest tomato – one assumes the former follows the latter.

(images via: Oddity Central and Telegraph UK)

While it may be significantly smaller, the Colombian version of La Tomatina is no less messy. It’s also more family-friendly with children doing cannonballs into pools of tomatoes – yeah, Mom’s gonna love that. Only rejected or otherwise inedible tomatoes are used in the food fight, which comes at the climax of a three-day Tomato Festival celebrating the importance of the region’s tomato crop.

Els Enfarinats, Ibi, Spain

(images via: Ipernity and Before It’s News)

Food fight aficionados should be sure not to miss the annual Els Enfarinats festival in Ibi, Alicante, Spain, and they should be especially sure to arrive BEFORE the main event and not after… if you thought rotten tomatoes smelled bad, just imagine the aftermath of a huge flour & egg battle. The place must reek for weeks, and that’s no yolk.

(image via: Ipernity)

The egg-citing main event has been staged for nearly two centuries and takes the form of a mock coup d’etat. A top-hatted, rebel army known as “Els Enfarinats” invades the town of Ibi every December 28th, collecting taxes and “shelling” flour and eggs onto the residents who naturally respond in kind – one bitter batter battle, to be sure! After the dust settles, all taxes collected are donated to a designated charity. In 2010, San Joaquin’s retirement home in Ibi was the beneficiary. Maybe they would’ve just preferred omelets.

Great Fruitcake Toss, Manitou Springs, CO, USA

(images via: Colorado-for-Free and Rocky Mountain Lodge & Cabins)

“At last, the answer to that age-old question: How do I get rid of this *$&*@#! fruitcake?” While re-gifting fruitcake is an age-old tradition, sooner or later you’re gonna get that petrified pastry back. At that point, there’s nothing left to do but dump it in the trunk and head on out to Manitou Springs. Once there, fruitcake flingers can opt for disposal via catapult, giant slingshot, or spud gun. Hiking in the area is not recommended – between the flying fruitcakes and some seriously annoyed bears, taking a trek through the woods would be nuttier than a… you know.

(image via: Blue Skies Inn)

While not a food fight per se, the Great Fruitcake Toss embodies some elements common to more traditional comestible wars. For instance, the tossed food is generally regarded as being inedible, participants wear funny hats, and a local charity receives donations of cash and food – anything but fruitcake! The 16th Annual Great Fruitcake Toss takes place on January 8th, 2011 beginning with a with a 15 gun salute. Hopefully the fruitcake will be blindfolded beforehand.

Batalla del Vino (Wine Throwing Fight), Haro, La Rioja, Spain

(images via: Most Interesting Destinations)

What began as a 13th century land dispute has evolved into the annual Batalla del Vino (Wine Throwing Fight), because who in their right mind would dispute some land for 700-odd years unless they were properly plastered on the local plonk? Leave it the fun-loving residents of Haro in La Rioja, Spain, to come up with this “full-bodied” festival that, by its end, sees everyone involved being involuntarily inducted into the Purple Gang.

Here’s a video that shows the burgundy bacchanalia in full swig, er, swing:

(image via: Crazy Spain Festivals)

Thousands of participants descend on Haro each year, armed with wine-filled wineskins, water pistols, crop sprayers and – if all else fails – plain old buckets. Prospective wine-battlers are given but a single directive: wear white. By the end of the violence, all will be violet.

La Tomatina, Buñol, Spain

(images via: FestivalPig and Allpics4u)

When it comes to food fights, all must bow down to the grand-daddy of them all, La Tomatina in Buñol, Spain. Each year on xx, the town is swamped with a tsunami of tomatoes as the air rapidly turns rosy red in hue and redolent with the heady scent of sauce. As the poster child for massive outdoor food fights, La Tomatina is widely reported on by world media and has become as well-known as the Running Of The Bulls in Pamplona – also Spanish, but much less tasty.

(image via: Valencia Trader)

La Tomatina may be huge in scale but it has a surprisingly short history that can be traced back to the mid-1940s. As it is not a religious festival, La Tomatina was banned during the Spanish State era of the Franco dictatorship but was revived upon the dictator’s death in 1975. Over the past 35 years La Tomatina has grown to be a week-long festival ending with the tomato fight on the last Wednesday of every August.

(images via: Allpics4u)

By the start of the fight, the number of participants in attendance reaches around 20,000 – matching the population of Buñol in other, non-tomato-y months. Approximately 150,000 tomatoes (over 90,000 pounds!) sourced from the four corners of the country are then “released” from a fleet of trucks by official instigators and the battle is on! Surprisingly, considering the big buildup, the actual battle only lasts about a half hour but the visual carnage is exceptional. Overly marinated tomato tossers repair to the riverside afterward where a row of portable public showers await.

(image via: Pikturz)

The mere concept of mass food fights strikes many as deplorably wasteful, a shameful indulgence that mocks millions of the world’s poorest and hungriest people. Lighten up, Francis! The towns and regions that hold food fighting festivals have, in many cases, done so for centuries and their agricultural infrastructure is geared to provide revelers with all the organic ammunition they need. Besides, can you imagine what 30 truckloads of tomatoes will look like after sitting on store shelves in a small Spanish town for 30 days, or after a week-long voyage to a sweltering African port? Exactly… and so, with that said, there’s only one thing left to do: Food Fight!!