In Memoria: Senator Paul Wellstone, who made being a liberal feel good; Richard Harris, who made being a drunk actor feel good; Harry Hay, who made being gay during a repressive time in this country’s history for anyone not a sane white heterosexual male feel good; and the hundred fifteen hostages in that Moscow theater, who definitely were not feeling good after being used as examples on how not to conduct a rescue operation using sedative gas.
Geez, Louise. Starting my second year here. Who’d have thought it? Certainly not the idiots on the message board who wanted me fired after my first column. You’ve already lost your bets, guys, so go boo hoo in your Yoo Hoo and get out of our faces. What a year we’ve had, folks. In case you haven’t heard, we’re Number One among independent wrestling sites according to Alexa*. We’ve got a staff that goes across the full spectrum of wrestling fandom and present entertaining and informative columns on a daily basis. We’ve got some of the best op-news people in the business in Flea and Grut, not to mention a true legend in Hyatte and…modesty forbids. It’s been a great run, and we’re just getting started.
* – Caveat: Alexa is spyware, and it’s pretty pernicious spyware; that’s why I throw that disclaimer in each mention. If you’ve installed Alexa, please, uninstall it and grab a copy of Ad-Aware to fully get rid of it. You know that I’ve pimped Ad-Aware in the past, so it’s a good thing, and it’s free. Of course, I should have mentioned this before, but Botter was good enough to remind me of this fact and insisted that I print this. Of course the second, if we’d both been rational about what I write in this column last October, I wouldn’t have been celebrating my first anniversary here. However, since then, he’s discovered Jeebus and I’ve discovered Lamictal, so we’re both better people for it. And we’re still friends.
(Just a note: My first anniversary here was actually last Wednesday, so I could have tooted the horn then, but that was a One-Hour Special and the thought simply slipped my mind.)
THE PIMP SECTION
Vanderhorst respects contemporary culture far more than I do.
I love pimping Gamble, and you should love reading him.
Memo to Daniels: Didn’t I use the “What’s wrong with a little necrophilia” line already? If not, be my guest.
And as for Hyatte…well, he gave me a Heads Up on the content of the Midnight News this week due to our mutual hatred of Scaia, and, as usual, he came through with flying colors. Brilliant, truly brilliant. You know, after all we’ve been through, Chris, I’m glad you never thought to do something like this with me. It’s enough shame for me that Scaia and I once shared the same area code.
DO THE RIGHT THING
Just in case you’re still deciding to vote Republican next week, here’s a little tidbit of interesting information from opensecrets.org: Microsoft has given twice as much money to the GOP this election cycle than to the Demos. Evil begets evil.
The Angels win the World Series:
Okay, so no one paid attention because it was in California. And, unless you’re a run freak, this whole series was pretty dull with the exception of Game 6. However, congrats to the winners, and let’s hope that this whole thing has enhanced your sale value (Suggestion to Disney: Before you sell, get those Rally Monkey plush toys out on the market and cash in).
Lula da Silva elected president of Brazil:
Apparently there’s one country in this hemisphere who understands that a leftist in the high office can be a good thing. However, Lula, get a clue and pimp the free market. It works; trust me. Give him major credit, though, for being stubborn. With him, fifth time’s the charm.
Paul Wellstone’s ballot replacement will almost certainly be Walter Mondale:
Okay, I admit that I’m a little sentimental about Mondale. He was the first presidential candidate I voted for. However, haven’t we liberals suffered enough?
The famous A List gossip page has had its quarterly update:
My favorite new entry: “Ann Coulter: alcoholic and habitual liar”. Well, we all knew that, didn’t we?
Indians reportedly set to name Wedge manager:
General Manager Mark Shapiro said, “It was a no-brainer, really. Given the color of our uniforms, we had to choose someone from Red Squadron. We settled for Wedge after Luke Skywalker wouldn’t return our calls.” Shapiro then went on to say that his leadership of Rogue Squadron would prove invaluable in bringing the Indians back to prominence.
MY TAKE ON THE SCOTT STEINER SIGNING
Like you need to ask. I’ve gone off on Steiner almost as often as I have on Flex. The last thing WWE needs right now is that addled moron going on one of his ‘roid binges. When Nitro went off the air and Vince showed no initial interest in him, I thought I was rid of him for good. Guess not, huh? Makes my stomach upset just thinking about it. However, if he’s going to be fed to Lesnar, maybe this will be for the good. Wait and see, but definitely skewing toward the negative on this one. Anyone surprised at that?
Of course, it’s time to unveil what I’m going to be calling Steiner from now on. I’ve settled on Big Sump Pump, because both he and a sump pump have the same functions: 1) They both suck, and 2) They spew out waste.
NOW I’LL HAVE TO GIVE UP ON FOOTBALL TOO
I had to witness the disgusting spectacle of the ViQueens taking the Bears apart like a piece of chum in the mouth of a shark. Okay, so they’ve lost five in a row, but this one really hurt. To lose in that fashion to the Purple Penis Eaters was enough mind-f*cking for one day, but then Fox had to pull away from that debacle to show us the vomitous muck of a celebration taking place in the World’s Biggest Outdoor Toilet Bowl down in Irving. Look, I don’t care what Sweetness said before he passed away. I don’t care what Connie and Jared said about Emmitt. Someone should have taken him out before this horrendous moment took place. Look, I begged all of you to take him out. I’m sure that one of you out there’s enough of a fanatic of mine to unconditionally obey me. Guess not. I’m so disappointed in all of you.
All I can say is that I now know what it’s like to have been a Noo Yawker the moment that McGwire hit 62. Albeit he did it against a minor-league team and it shouldn’t have counted. And bravo to the cnnsi.com voters for getting one right this time. By a 3-1 ratio, they say that Emmitt’s achievements should be downgraded due to the great O-lines he played behind.
Guess I have to turn to college football and, oh, gee, look who’s still undefeated after bitch-slapping Bobby Bowden’s boys. And there’s only one speed-bump left for Ty’s Guys in Southern Cal. Miami/ND national championship game? Now that’s something that’ll bring a lot of people back to college football.
YOU’RE A MORON: READ THE CREDITS, YOU FOOL
This week’s winner was brought to us by A Certain Mister Flea, who supposedly does a news column here. Well, this Saturday, in the introduction to a new series of Net writing that he’s enjoyed and admired, he used my Smarks column from last March, “Fear and Loathing In Houston”, in which he says prior to reprinting it:
So without further ado let’s get this baby kicked of with a piece by everyone’s favorite curmudgeon ERIC S! He pays homage to Dr. Hunter S. Thompson is a fine little piece called “Fear and Loathing in Houston”…
So, therefore, to a human being of normal intelligence, he is making these facts clear:
1) I, not he, am the author of this piece (a fact, by the way, that I’m very proud of; a lot of people have called it my best work).
2) It is a pastiche in tribute to one of my literary idols, the Doktor.
However, as Ol’ Ryder Fakin’ generously points out to me, “….all I have to do is mention YOUR name or add something you wrote and WHAM! they come out of the woodwork.” “They”, in this case, meaning candidates for YAM. Specifically, let’s name the winning candidate in this case: Bryan Lazores, who wrote to Flea:
I was just reading the Saturday Matinee. I was scrolling through the usual graphs and graphs of bullshit and then I started to read your description of travelling down to Wrestlemania. “This is a lot like Hunter S. Thompson,” I thought. Then I got to the
part where you used to word “atavistic,” and I said “WHAT A FUCKIN’ TOOL!” and closed my browser. Christ, you suck.
Geez, imagine what would have happened if I’d used “Cazart!” (the only Thompsonism I eschewed in that column, by the way).
So, therefore, our dear Mister Lazores utterly believes that Flea 1) wrote it and 2) ripped off the Doktor. Enough to consider him a moron, no doubt. However, he then goes one step further and puts himself over the top. Again, forwarded to me from Flea:
I’m sorry. I was in the throes of an ether binge when I sent the last email. You don’t suck, and thank you for your continued entertainment.
So, Mister Lazores, what are you apologizing for? Thinking Flea sucked, not realizing that he didn’t write it, or not noticing the goddamn disclaimer in the first place saying that it was a reprinted pastiche? Or maybe you’re apologizing for the fact that you actually wrote Flea in the first place before you realized one or more of those mistakes? Imagine that thought process from him:
“Hey, I really showed him! I called him out of ripping off Dr. Hunter S. Thompson!…oh, wait, I didn’t notice that before. Oh, it’s a parody. Hey, and it’s written by someone else. Who wrote it?…oh, shit…”
Mister Lazores, you must have realized that doing something on this level of sheer stupidity would bring you to my attention. Flaming Flea is not a good thing to do in the first place. Flaming Flea for something he didn’t write and for something whose existence and purpose he explained prior to the reprinting is definitely not a good thing to do. Flaming Flea for something he didn’t write and for something whose existence and purpose he explained prior to the reprinting when the original author of the piece was me gets your flame mail forwarded to me so that I can crown you winner of this week’s You’re A Moron.
Let me just add here that some of the guys at 411 know this, but most don’t: if you think that any of your fan mail is YAM-worthy, please, forward it to me. Let’s all join in on the fun.
And speaking of fun, let me have a little of that with the Short Form…
THE SHORT FORM
Keith didn’t like it, PK did. But the only opinion that matters is mine.
The Commonwealth Connection over Rob Van Dam and Tommy Dreamer (Pinfall, Regal pins Dreamer, Revenge Of The Canadian Flag): Okay, decent opener, but, like with Booker, it spells the end of Van Dam’s upper-card push. Of course, it also spells the beginning of Tommy Dreamer’s upper-mid-card push. The fact that Dreamer’s getting that level of push when Hardcore is supposedly finished is mind-blowing to begin with, but, you have to admit, the guy deserves it. He gave his health to Heyman to keep ECW going, and he’s done what WWE’s required of him. Loyalty gets rewarded. Now, please remember that when it comes time to do the same with Storm.
Test over Goldust (Pinfall, big boot): Oh, my God, Test is going to get over with this routine. Well, that and having My Beautiful and Beloved by his side (Memo to Stace: Mouthwash, lots of it, before you get over here, please). Maybe one day, Andrew Martin can get over without having a woman by his side, but that day is not now. Let him and his Testicles enjoy it while they can, though.
Chris Crass over Buh Buh Ray Dudley and Jeff Hardy, Tag Titles Match (Pinfall, Jericho pins Hardy, Asai moonsault): This is becoming WWE SOP: hot tag match to try to save a mediocre show. The problem here is that the show’s beyond saving most weeks. I’m still grateful for decent matches like this one, though. A little formulaic, but still decent.
Chris Harvard over Booker T (DQ, Snow-erference): A few minutes before this, Bisch announced that Booker would be part of the Elimination Chamber. Then he has to go and be an adjunct to the Chris/Snow angle. Talk about schizophrenia. I think I feel more sorry for Booker right now than if he was just being shafted. There’s nothing more disappointing than seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, only to find out that it’s an oncoming train.
Trish Stratus over Molly Holly and Jackie, Triple Threat Women’s Title Match (Pinfall, Stratus pins Holly, Stratusfaction): A women’s title match with Triple Threat rules, with three women in there who’ve proven they can wrestle, and they still only give it about three minutes? Sexism runs rampant yet again. Decent for what it was.
Kane over Trip, Casket Match (Michaels-ference): The future is in the past. Period.
Ventriloquist Act: I wasn’t as offended as Beau Landaiche was about the opening sketch (well, other than Helms doing the interrupt…again, what is HE doing interrupting an opening sketch?). What Trip was doing was a nice rewind to DX 1.0 (along with a damn good cover for that production gaffe last week). Unfortunately, that was destroyed by the “Tribute To Mae Young Giving Birth” scene that followed. Too many objects, far too extended. However, that was redeemed by the sight of Trip beating up a mannequin for no real reason and, of course, Terry Taylor getting camera time. Any excuse to get the Rooster some face time is fine by me.
Blue Balls: You all know where this was going the moment My Beautiful and Beloved opened her mouth. All is forgiven, though, with that MCU of her ass. Nice camera work by your people, Mistah Dunn.
The Return Of GTV: Isn’t recycling wonderful? Our favorite ubiquitous hidden camera has returned after all this time, recording those moments that shouldn’t be seen. However, I liked GTV when it was around the first time, so I’ll give this a pass until it becomes too silly. The fact that this routine now has official sanction takes some of the edge off, though.
More about this crap tomorrow.