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411mania » The 411 » T.G. Corke

Picture:
Name:	T.G. Corke
Email:	tgcorke@googlemail.com
Current Roles:	Writer of The Seventh Dimension, contributor to Wrestler of the Week and Roundtable Previews, and occasional 'blogist'.
Past Roles:	Just a fan, mate.
Other credits:	No significant journalistic credits, but I got an A for a newspaper article I wrote for A-level English Language just after George Best snuffed himself out.
Quote:	"Life is a learning curve." "The cream always rises to the top." Other than those, I just improvise and the people around me remember what I said.
History:	I was born of a virgin typewriter and fathered by a grapefruit. I started writing at the age of 12, when I grew my maiden set of hands. Since then, my credits have included 'Kellogs The Cornflakes Snake', 'Cave Boat', 'A Man Meets a Woman on a Train Who He Tries To Seduce but She is Only Thirteen but Then She is Actually a Bit Older Than He Is and is Also a Police Officer Who Arrests Him and Then Has Sex With Him', and 'The Tree'. I went through a rough patch at the age of seventeen when I committed suicide (at least, that's what a forum full of Eighties Matchbox fans were lead to believe), but a few weeks later I was back and better than ever, except that I had lost every inch of skin previously upon my body. For more information, read a book.

Blog

And we're rolling... - 01.31.2008

My friend Luke has been asking all of his friends to write stories centred around fictional characters called Brian. Here's my entry, I think he's eventually making a website for them but who knows.

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Brian
by T.G. Corke

Eighty-six thousand, four-hundred seconds. Every day, we endure eighty-six thousand, four-hundred seconds of our own personal tumults. Love, hate, pain, bliss, fatigue, hyperactivity, stress, sedation. You name it, I can also name it. Copernicus, Da Vinci, and a wealth of other beautiful bastards have appreciated the fragile attributes of the human mind. And now, we are all so sensitive that even the mention of puppies can preclude mass murder. Everyone knows this. It goes without saying, really.

But then, there was Brian.

On the surface, Brian was a man like any other. He was five-foot ten-inches tall and weighed just over eleven stone. He had hair golden like the butter he spread liberally upon his toast each morning, and his eyes were of a bluish hue not dissimilar to that of the tears that poured from them whenever his children greeted him. He was respected throughout the village of Smallcongealedbollockwart, a tiny fishing village in the Welsh valleys. He had everything he wanted – a lovely wife, a big pair of tits for the lovely wife, a nice car with spoilers to die for, a four-storey mansion with thirty-three acres of garden (not that much, really), and the world’s largest collection of crayons.

However, material possessions can only get you so far. Sometimes, it’s the intangibles that dictate what kind of a person you are. And sadly, this is where Brian got unstuck.

For you see, Brian was born without ‘like’.

Ponder this situation for one bloody second, would you? Imagine it – you can only love, or hate. You cannot get any middle ground whatsoever. Your personality is a hollow spectrum, an A-to-C without any possibility of a B weaving its way into the equation. For most, Marmite is a polarising condiment. For Brian, it was merely a pebble on the desolate beach of his psyche.

So, to what did he owe this malignant massacre of genetic malfunction? Well, for that we need look no further than his beginnings.

Born Brianado Opal-Fruit Mendezopolis on July the 18th, 1964, the man that would later be known simply as Brian was sired by a Greek scientist named Opak Omnibus, and was developed within the womb of a Spanish gynecologist called Valencia Vamos. The conception was a modest one, a single fornication in the traditional face-to-face manner. No aspect of the formula was out of the ordinary – penetration, ejaculation, followed by lack of menstruation. Likewise, not a thing even slightly differing from the norm in any perceivable way was evident in the build-up to Brian’s birth. But then, things started to get interesting.

Mediterranean DNA is not the same as Caucasian or Negro DNA. It has a third chromosome, the M, which contributes to factors of taste and perception. Normally, when two Mediterranean people conceive a child, it’s business as usual. However, if the parents are each from different regions of the area, the semen will mutate when it reacts with the ovaries. The result of this is that the M creates a spectrum by merging the personalities of the mother and the father, and the polar opposite of these traits over-whelms those of the original antagonists.

Brian, unfortunately, was the victim of this insatiable lust. A mere pawn in the game of life. As his parents were notoriously mundane human-beings, who never showed any inclination of sharp opinion even in the face of the most important things, it was only natural that Brian would therefore find it impossible to feel anything other than absolute, undiluted sentiment at all times.

Unfortunately, that was just the tip of the iceberg. Unbeknownst to them, Opak and Valencia were cousins. In our society, this would not be a problem. But, in the land of olive oil and rapid speech, cousins mating have a much more profound impact on their offspring. Brian was, in fact, autistic. And, coupled with his inability to incorporate diplomacy into his life, he was a tragic flea-bite on the ample arse of humanity.

On one particular occasion, in order to prove to himself that the word ‘like’ even existed, Brian scouted it in his beloved dictionary. Upon reaching the appropriate page, Brian skimmed through the lines of text in the hope of exorcising his demons. However, when his eyes made contact with that word, he fell unconscious. Seconds later, and with temporary constipation, he awoke to find that his book was on fire.

This trend continued for the rest of his days. Whenever he attempted to say it, or even a sequence of words that sounded similar to it (for instance, “would I lie, Kelly?”), he would immediately pass out and suffer multiple nosebleeds to the face. Even when others used the word, he would hear nothing but static until the threat of exposure had dissipated. He was unable to even watch as the speaker’s lips motioned this lexical smidgeon of sadness.

And that’s where our story ends, for it is simply impossible to summon the emotional stamina necessary to continue down this beaten path like a dead dog on a stick being towed by momentum itself. So, I’ll leave you with the poem that was recited at Brian’s funeral after he died of Hepatitis C last year.

“Brian, mate,
You fucking legend.
Legend.
We all thought you were well great, and that.
You were even better when you weren’t on K.
We did worry about you at times,
But overall I think the friendship worked.
Oh yeah, I’ve got to just say this.
One time, me and big Baz (big Baz mutters that he should desist in his recollection)
No, Baz, it needs to be said. So anyway, me and Bazzy B were at your house,
And we put our cocks in your mouth,
And then in each others.
You were awake, you liked it.
Oh yeah, I didn’t really need to say that, then.
Damn it, I’ve jeopardised my marriage for nothing!
I’M SORRY, SHARON! I’M NOT PERFECT. WHAT DO YOU WANT, BLOOD?
(cleared throat at this time) Anyway, rest in peace and that.”

Nikolay ‘Badger’ Evans
Best friend

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And that's a wrap.

And we're rolling... - 12.21.2007

This is a sister-show, if you will, of my column 'Total Nonstop Analysis - Part Four of Five'. I separated this from the rest of the article, because when I read it back I found I was completely distracted by this bit and was left disorientated by my own opinions. I suppose it's a case of less meaning more.

Anyway, basically I listed who I considered to be the major backstage influences in TNA/WWE, and gave a small line about each to coincide with the piece. This here is the full descriptives I originally wrote for each of them. It's not necessary, but hopefully for anyone who questioned any of my logic it will provide some insight.

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WWE Politicians

● Triple H - the most infamous such standard of his generation, Triple H is universally discredited by readers and writers alike as being a bully with only his own interests at heart. He’s the boss’s son-in-law and a founder member of the Kliq, so it’s not hard to see why he’s criticised in the way he is for obtaining a record eleven World Heavyweight Championships in his WWE career. In fairness, I don’t think there are going to be many out there that would argue with his ‘former WWE Champion’ status, but becoming the third-most prolific World title holder in the history of the sport rubs some people up the wrong way – especially considering those who have fallen to him, such as Rob Van Dam and Booker T who were both hugely over when they decisively came up short in their title feuds with ‘the Hs’ during 2002 and 2003.
● Shawn Michaels - although a lot less frenzied than his (self-acknowledged) run before his back injury, Shawn still holds a high degree of command. Although he has only held four World titles in his career, he’s been much scrutinised for pulling out of matches and angles in the past when it’s suited him, and burying people he doesn’t like using his promos. His squabbles with Bret Hart are world-renowned, as well as his recent exploits with Triple H reforming D-Generation X and dominating Raw. Another notable example is when he pleaded with management to allow him to go over Hulk Hogan at Summerslam, but they refused him for once. In retaliation, Michaels canceled the proposed rematch at Unforgiven (which he was also booked to lose), and instead faced an undefeated Chris Masters who he beat relatively comfortably.
● Undertaker - No doubt one of the greatest ever, and his work in 2007 will surely go down as perhaps the best of his entire career. However, just last year many were protesting his apparent invulnerability, as he would come back from hiatuses and straight into the main-event, having previously made (the much-maligned at the time, I should add) Randy Orton look second-tier. Undertaker then led his angle with Kennedy, losing only via disqualification and then in a First Blood Match when MVP accidentally hit him with a chair. **Writer’s note: See, this is what I mean when I say a loss is sometimes less damaging than a win. Kennedy looked like the world’s biggest pussy at Survivor Series last year, yet people THIS year have been moaning that he lost to Shawn Michaels due to a split-second error of judgment in a very close match where Kennedy actually acted much better than Michaels and may have raised his stock considerably. It’s ludicrous.** This year, he’s spent almost all his time in the World title scene, so it’s impossible to tell what weight he’s had on his matches. Again, though, this has been easily his best work in many years, so I find no fault in his accomplishments.
● JBL - By no means the most slandered or destructive of forces, but he certainly has leeway. JBL has, through his achievements on Wall Street more than anything, earned enough respect from management that he is able to fly on Vince’s personal airliner with him. No word on whether he’s allowed to help himself to the Pommery in the cooler, but it’s no mean feat to aboard the boss’s jet. He was also able to convince him (or, perhaps, was himself convinced) that he should return to action and straight away be a major player in the company’s favourite brand.
● Randy Orton and Batista - I’m lumping these two together because they fall under the same category for me – the ‘passive politician’. Let me explain – I have nothing against either man as an athlete. Orton is a great story-teller, nails his moves flawlessly and with finesse, and with the right opponent to dictate the pace and the psychology he’s capable of four-star matches on a regular basis. Batista is underrated beyond belief by many would-be pundits, and I feel he is still suffering a small amount of the apathy he received when he first returned from injury and was nowhere near ready to compete at the top of his game. In short, both = good. That said, both men have been somewhat tarnished by their reputations as arrogant bastards. Orton has allegedly matured immensely over the past year and Batista is said to be simply misunderstood, but the bottom line is they’re perceived as horrendous human beings even if that’s not necessarily the case. Henceforth, I include them here because I believe at least some of their sustained sensation emanates from their friendship with Triple H and Ric Flair from their old Evolution days, even if there’s not any operating bias on the same level as with Triple H himself.
● John Cena - This is a bombshell to be sure, and this is once again a case of being a politician without actively seeking such outcome. John Cena is, by all accounts, a great friend of Vince McMahon. The two of them are always said to be around each other talking about whatever publicity they can attract, and it is said to rather anguish many others in the company. Of course, most of this is jealousy. But that doesn’t make the claim invalid, and I’m actually only surprised that Cena hasn’t received more erroneous flack than he already has. I’m not doubting Cena’s integrity here, though. I think this is a case of Cena being a ‘company politician’, whereby he genuinely wants to see the WWE strive even more. If one of the peaks of this is, in Vince’s eyes, that Cena should be the poster child of the entire industry, then so be it. It’s called good business, and this is about as ethical as it gets.

TNA Politicians

● Jeff Jarrett - Considered by some as ‘TNA’s very own Triple H’ for a long time, Jeff Jarrett ruled the roost from the start. Like Triple H, he has a huge amount of power due to the fact that he actually started the company and owns part of it. Unlike Triple H, however, almost every one of his detractors considers him little more than a mid-card hack who doesn’t deserve the folklore he’s scoring for himself. He is now a six-time NWA World Heavyweight Champion in TNA – the total time of these reigns weighing in at almost three years between them – as well as four runs with the WCW World Heavyweight Championship (which have been accredited to his friendship with WCW’s booker at the time, none other than Vince Russo). Personally, I usually quite enjoy his matches. Whether or not he deserves to reside at joint-fourth in the all-time list for World title sovereignties is another matter entirely. Having said all that, Jeff is currently out of action and has been since the passing of his wife Jill seven months ago.
● Kurt Angle - Now seen as the ‘second coming’ of Jarrett’s supremacy, Angle entered the fray late last year and has spent his time towards etching his celebrity into the annuls of time just that little bit more than he had already. The first TNA World Heavyweight Champion, the second man to hold the Triple Crown of titles in TNA (and first to hold them all at the same time), and the winner of the King of the Mountain match, Angle is currently TNA’s hottest commodity. The problem is, he is also booked in a multitude of ‘light-hearted’ skits during Impact! each week, in which he looks like nothing more than a joke that just happens to be far superior to the other jokes. He was also the main instigator of his wife, Karen, being hired by the company as a Knockout. In spite of every good thing Kurt can do in the ring, many people who watch the show have described him as a cancer within TNA.
● Kevin Nash - Big Diesel Kev is, of course, one of the most recognised cunts in wrestling history. A member of the infamous Kliq, a member of the nWo which helped instigate both the rise AND fall of WCW, a former booker for WCW, and now a man who makes light on television of the fact that he’s paid by the company to sit around backstage. Lest we forget, Kevin booked himself at Starrcade to end Goldberg’s undefeated streak, which of course was followed the next night by the Finger Poke of Doom (which as an angle wasn’t bad aside from continuity being destroyed for it to take place, but fucked every one of the company’s fans up the arse with no KY). Had none of this happened, and Goldberg continued to run rampant as WCW Champion, I believe WCW may very well still exist – although I think it would likely have already lost the Monday Night Wars. Who knows? All that’s obvious is that Kevin Nash fucked things up BIG-TIME with his ego, and now he can’t even do anything. Entertaining, but horrible.
● Abyss - Well, he’s only now decided to get into all that, as he’s become a board member and sits in on meetings. Presumably, his influence (if he has any) will lead to more hardcore matches. Goodness help us if that is the case, because Abyss’s weapon-y shit has done nothing for me in the last few months.
● Christian Cage - Until recently, he went nowhere near the political side. Lately, however, he is said to be a bit more paranoid about his character’s direction, and therefore pitches a lot more ideas and makes a lot more requests. This has pissed off some of his colleagues, but I can’t say I blame him. It’s perfectly rational to think they’ll waste him. They’ve already somewhat devalued Samoa Joe, who was a sure-fire bet to make them a ton of money and ride high with the World title. If they can mess things up with him, they can sure as hell do it with Cage.

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Right, thanks for reading!

And we're rolling... - 11.17.2007

So I'm creating this story, with help from my friend Luke. I'm doing the actual literary quota, as my spelling and grammar is slightly more advanced, but Luke was the genius who came up with the initial idea.

I can't remember whether it was based on somebody's genuine mistake, but the story is one of people being unable to tell between oranges and lemons. For years, civilisation has not bothered to separate the two, and only two people - one polite and patient, the other arrogant and aggressive, each on opposite sides of the world - know the truth. However, their attempts fail miserably as their 'students' refuse to accept that there is a difference. Eventually, there are all kinds of farcical plot-twists and humorous lines which are there only to heighten the hyperbole.

Of course, the whole thing was considered as a joke. And, as you would expect from me, it's played for laughs more than anything else. However, I actually do think there's a good message here. You'll know by now I'm one for spontaneoty and continuous process of thought, creating new opinions and learning all the time, learning from mistakes and moving on. Well, back in the day, Europeans were believed to be under the impression that the world was flat. The common thought is that Christopher Columbus discovered America, went back home and told everyone about how Earth was spherical, and nobody believed him. Heck, even the fricking Carlsberg advert featured a song that affirmed this philosophy.

However, this wasn't true at all. The Renaissance was already in an advanced stage, and as a result most people were well aware that they lived on a giant ball. It would seem, in fact, that the Ancient Greeks ALSO knew thousands of years beforehand. Columbus failed to get support not due to the shape of the planet, but because of his calculations relating to landmass and water-surfacing. Hell, he wasn't even the first to discover America! But still, to this day and age, many people just figure that what they heard must be true, without validating it for themselves. Just like many still believe snakes have no bones - including Jake Roberts - and that 'O²' is the chemical symbol for oxygen (it's actually dioxygen - oxygen itself is simply 'O'). To give a wrestling reference, it's a lot like my column a couple of weeks ago concerning the Hell in a Cell spot. Someone started a rumour that Mick Foley said he wasn't supposed to go through the cage, and even though it clearly WAS intentional and there's absolutely no proof that Foley has ever made such a claim, it is treated as fact by the majority of columnists who have covered the event.

Look, I make mistakes as well. Don't think of this as snobbery towards people who listen to others. Without listening, we'd never learn anything in the first place. We'd never learn how to talk, for one thing. This story isn't an attack, it's a message. A message that you should always be on your toes, and question everything you read or hear that has no reliable source. A message with stupid metaphors and similies, designed to make people shake their heads and ask why the hell we wrote such crap, while making others piss themselves because they have the exact same condescending semantic attitude and broad vocabulary.

Anyway, here's the opening prologue. Don't steal it, now! Or, indeed, ever.

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A Populace of Ignorance

One-hundred and forty lay dead along the one path in and out of the small fishing village of Tabitha. What was once home a beautiful, rustic environment, inhabited by only the most deserving of citizens, was now a burning scourge of debris and panic. The rain was falling, as was common during the winter months, but failed to distort the raging flames by any more than a few centimetres. This was, in the minds of the few survivors, the apocalypse.

As he stared at the annihilation before him, the material devastation showing no signs of failing, and the charred remains of his fallen friends scattered around him in every direction, Peter Melt finally realised the severity of what he had done. For you see, although he was not directly culpable for what had happened, his stubborn concerns instigated a chain-reaction of events that ultimately rendered him partially responsible. Concerns that, for all intents and purposes, were rather trivial.

Unable to stomach the ever-expanding obliteration of his former home, Peter sought refuge in his local church. The only building left standing - perhaps too sacred to attack in the eyes of its congregation - was perhaps his only available shelter from the perpetual salvo of misery that surrounded him. However, he was now besieged with questions from the dwindling population that had gathered in the small font area.

"Why did you do this?"

"How could you betray us like this?"

"Do you have any idea what you've done to all of us?"

"Can I have one of your pretzels?"

After solemnly declaring that he was, in fact, currently eating the last of his savoury treats, he was met with another inquisition.

"Well, Peter? Was it worth it?"

With the desperate eyes of his fellow parishioners fixed to him like a vice, Peter was locked in silent contemplation for many seconds. All manner of images and memories came flooding back into his brain - the first time he ever expressed his doubts. The first time he ever attempted to impart his knowledge on others. The first time he met his eventual wife. The first time he ever saw his son, Hector. The first time he rode a donkey. And the first time he was ever asked if it was all worth it.

Then, he realised, he wasn't remembering being asked. He WAS being asked, repeatedly. Even his son who, unlike Peter's wife, survived the onslaught was getting frustrated with the lack of a straight answer from his breathless father. Eventually, Peter regained his composure and, ready to articulate his response, placed his hand inside his trouser pocket for a cigarette.

Suddenly, he became stiff. He was stunned by what he discovered as he delved the depths of his internal lining. For you see, it did not contain a cigarette as he had anticipated. There was not even a lighter present. What he felt spoke louder than a thousand cigarettes in word form.

A lemon.

A simple article of citrus matter was resting next to his scrotum. Peter retrieved it, and tears began to roll down his face. Not content with his ascertainment, he reached into his adjacent receptacle, and pulled out an orange. Once more, he could not keep a lid on his emotions, and started screaming very loudly. Incapable of suffering his sire's torment any longer, Hector grabbed a shard of stained glass from the broken window through which he had made his entry, and stabbed his father fatally. As he crashed to the floor, feeling a bittersweet relief that the end was approaching, Peter deviated a loving glance at his son. Hector, in a state of shock and anxiety, cradled his dying patron till the very end, which was not far away. Before he departed, Peter handed his son the two pieces of fruit he had located earlier. With a tremble in his voice, Hector once again asked his father the question everyone in attendance wanted answered.

"Well, dad? Was it worth it?"

Peter smiled at his boy, barely even an adult, who had inherited his very same natural curly hair but in his mother's colour. With a sense of pride, and with no fear evident in his tone, Peter replied...

"Hell fucking yeah."

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That's not even the whole prologue. I have to introduce the other main character, Vinnie Loredo, the more peaceful protagonist of the two. Anyway, I'll keep you updated as to how I get on, and such. Hopefully, it will become my (and Luke's) first novel eventually?

And we're rolling... - 10.06.2007

For anyone who didn’t read it (it's still just below this one), my previous blog 'Woeful' was a riposte to my (former) associate William Bumgarner’s article ‘What Were They Thinking?’ from the same date (October 3rd). It was a good indication of how utterly irate I was with his sentiments a propos of John Cena, and about what I believe to have been a deliberately negative attitude from him. It has already received a host of responses from readers, which will be seen in my Reader Feedback portion of next week's column (13th of October), and even fellow columnist and 411 VETERAN George H. Sirois sent me a private message on the subject, which will remain private (CO*accidentallydeletedit*UGH).

In the wake of this, though I’m sure it wasn’t only my correspondence which led to this result - in fact, Larry assured me that it wasn't - William decided to resign from the site. He posted a final column, titled ‘What the Hell was *I* Thinking?’, in which he apologised and took full responsibility for his downfall, blaming nobody else in the process (at least, that's what his tagline led me to believe - I haven't yet had the opportunity to read the article, as it doesn't seem to have been uploaded properly). I must say that this was a very classy move on his part. I won’t apologise for standing up for what I believe in, but I will respect the integrity that was on display here. It was an unexpected turn of events, not one I was hoping for, and I just hope he might try again covering a subject he actually enjoys. In truth, he has the fluent writing skills capable of a good article. He just didn't get it right on this occasion. But, as I always say - Life's a learning curve.

Kudos, William. I won't pretend I'll miss you, but I wish you luck in whatever you decide to do next. And I sincerely mean that.

And we're rolling... - 10.03.2007

I'd like to address an utterly ridiculous piece of tat I read this week. William Bumgarner's blindly pessimistic and borderline sadistic article, 'What Were They Thinking?'. For anyone who hasn't read it, it's the product of years of preconceived disillusionment and 'follow the leader' mentality falsely disguised as productive and informed opinion. One of a slew of 'smart' columns that have been allowed to see the light of day based purely on the fact that the writer in question can spell, this week's offering is so atrocious and laughably incoherent that I can't even bring myself to lower the already unable standards of my own reputation by providing a link to the column in question.

Why have I come to such a conclusion? Well, the premise of the article doesn't help - yet another glorified blog depicting only what is considered bad in professional wrestling today, without even an ATTEMPT at rectifying the problem other than "don't do stuff I don't like". Previous weeks have seen him bitch about Jillian Hall, Shane McMahon as European Champion (though, strangely, no complaints about Vince McMahon as WWF Champion), and the reliable classic - David Arquette as WCW Champion (get over it already, more on that later). All of those are somewhat forgiveable due to flawed booking and internal oversights that had negative repurcussions (except with Jillian Hall, who just doesn't mean much).

However, THIS week's attempt at rational thought really takes the piss. Here are a few snippets and my reactions to them:

~~~ People gripe about Goldberg, Sid Vicious, Kevin Nash, and a few others as having limited movesets, but Cena's no better. I have yet to see this guy do anything truly innovative or noteworthy. Let me see him do a Swanton, or a jumping swinging DDT, or a 360° flipping piledriver, or something to give an indication that he's actually been trained because, frankly, I don't believe it for a minute. ~~~

People gripe about Goldberg, Sid Vicious and Kevin Nash because they respectively comprise an unmotivated gridiron player, a guy who stabbed Arn Anderson, and a notorious politician backstage. Anyone truly finding fault with Cena's moveset for being 'limited' need to wake the fuck up and watch a Shawn Michaels match. It's the same shit every time - over-the-top selling, flying forearm/kip-up, inverted Atomic Drop, Elbow Drop, Sweet Chin Music attempt. Now, why doesn't Shawn Michaels get chants of "you can't wrestle" and "same old shit"?

Because the fans in question are fickle, overcompensating half-wits who can't tell the difference between 'character' and 'ability'. If you want to see ridiculously dangerous - sorry, 'innovative' - moves that don't add much to the overall impact, go and watch someone else. Do you also go to funerals and complain at the lack of an all-night rave and a handjob from the widow afterwards? No, of course not. So get over yourself, please. I'm so sick of this 'Cena is limited' bullshit that relies on nothing except misguided hatred.

Also, no training for Cena? Perhaps, then, I should refer you back to his days in OVW, where he was champion? Strike one, as Meehan would say. What else have you got?

~~~ This week's sacrificial lamb is Mr. Kennedy, without a doubt the most talented heel on RAW right now. Kennedy could go far working matches against fan favorites like Hunter or Hardcore Holly, or he could turn face and work programs with Carlito, Shelton Banjamin, or Randy Orton. Instead, he gets his career buried a little at a time by Cena. You can forget a title push or big-time angle now, Kennedy; if the suspension wasn't a big enough clue, then this only cements it. You're being punished, and it's probably not ending any time soon. ~~~

First, I have to question calling Hardcore Holly a 'fan favourite' when he's currently in a heel program with Cody Rhodes, and is constantly on the end of fan apathy. These little errors aren't uncommon in your pieces, Will, as shall become increasingly evident as this goes on.

Now, as for Kennedy being punished by main-eventing his first Raw back after a highly-publicised suspension, against the WWE's biggest star, and not coming away with the victory? What fucking planet are you on? Listen, losing cleanly to Hornswoggle would be a punishment. Losing to Robbie of the Highlanders would be a punishment. Losing to WWE Champion John Cena to close the show (after-match angle aside), and getting a good amount of offence in the process, is a fucking reward. Kennedy could have been out of a job after how he's conducted himself in regards to the steroid scandal. He made WWE look like a poorly run joke of a company, insulted an entire nation of people for 'not being accountable', and just generally swam out of his depth. People have been fired for less than this, Matt Hardy for instance. Instead, Kennedy has a hyped return against the company's showcase, gets eight minutes with him and isn't disgraced in any way. If that's your idea of a punishment, you're impossible to please and should probably be ignored.

Next!

~~~ Here's a tip, Cena: get some freaking acting lessons and watch the promos of guys that can actually, you know, pull them off. ~~~

As an actor myself, I call bullshit on this. For fuck's sake, Cena made himself cry the other week, a skill that barely any professional actors can pull off (see: Philip Seymour Hoffman in 'Capote', which rightfully won him an Oscar but included the shittest attempt at shedding tears you'll ever see). And yes, plenty of terrible actors can cry on cue, but Cena wasn't crying on cue. He got so into the story and the character he portrays that he actually got choked up. You could hear it in his voice. John Cena a tremendous actor (as far as wrestlers are concerned, at least), and easily one of the best in the WWE, alongside Shawn Michaels which is saying something.

Besides, this is the same old shit that I called you out on before in regards to his 'limited' moveset. Cena doesn't claim to be an actor. How many fucking wrestlers do you know that go to drama school? None. You're just trying so hard to find things to complain about now that it's inexcusable. It's fucking disguting, in fact.

~~~ Seeing a no-talent hack like this every week just reinforces my view that the WWE is on the slow train to Hell. I saw this exact same stuff in WCW while they were on their way out. ~~~

Oh, boy. This old chestnut again. Look, you're comparing chalk with cheese here. WWE is, at its heart, a wrestling/entertainment company that, despite numerous injuries and suspensions, are still making money and are still drawing in fans. WWE has been in countless ruts worse than this one, with much less reliable workers and fewer of them. It is also run by Vincent Kennedy McMahon, the owner, and funded by stockholders. WCW was a corporate shill interested only in how much they could make, was owned by a conglomerate and was losing upwards of $90million a year by its end. THERE IS NO CORRELATION HERE. Again, it's dead matter that has no right to be construed as a valuable point. It is nothing.

What's that, now? Four strikes? That's a one way ticket to Ownedville, East Sussex right there.

It gets worse, as well, if you can believe that readers.

~~~ Cena may have been legitimately torn his right pectoral muscle. All I can say is that, if this is true, he could be out for weeks, which is potentially the best news to come out of Stamford that I can ever remember hearing. This may sound cold, but I'm frankly beyond caring; if he is hurt, then I hope that it's much worse than they think and that, with this, his career is over, as I'm sick of seeing that hack on my TV. ~~~

And here we have the line between 'cynical' and 'dispicable' officially crossed. The idea that you would wish a debilitating injury on someone, just because you're bored of seeing them on a TV show that you are under no obligation whatsoever to watch, is repulsive. I'm not easily offended, but I WAS offended by just what a load of garbage you've spouted here. Cena has given 31 months of his life to being the best champion he could be, and some cunt sitting behind a computer decides that's not enough because there aren't enough sodding cruiserweights or indie losers on a mainstream wrestling show that never claimed to have these people and we're instead stuck with a character-driven program pushing their biggest character in an attempt to make money because they are making money and they like money. (Of course, I'm just guessing that's what you're pissy over because, as I've already pointed out, you make no clear effort to suggest an alternative. You simply complain about what's already there.)

It doesn't exactly aid your credibility when you make brazen factual errors as well, such as suggesting David Arquette (again, get over it) dragged Bischoff back to the ring when he was already there, pinned Bischoff with a Diamond Cutter when it was a Spear, and that Kanyon was thrown off the cage during the Triple Cage Match when it was afterwards. I know they say 'Never let the truth get in the way of a good story', but when you're trying to convince a large number of people that you're right, it's probably best to do a bit of research. Hell, I didn't even WATCH any WCW until after it folded, and even I recognised your serious mistakes.

I fell for it at first, William. I actually believed at first that you were a wrestling fan. That you wanted what was best for the business and simply hated to see it fail. But it is clear that you are not a fan. And I don't say that because you dislike Cena. You're perfectly welcome to your opinions. I say that because you have literally dedicated your existence towards hating the thing you are focusing on, and only focusing on the things you hate. You're no more a fan of wrestling than I am a fan of horse racing. Your column is a joke at best and downright intelligence-insulting at worse. It is a pathetic waste of lines of text, for nothing more than a cheap bit of sensationalist quasi-journalism that is based on nothing but ignorance.

Congratulations, William Bumgarner. You have lost a reader, you have lost my respect, and you have lost any entitlement to a wrestling column on such an esteemed website, as far as I'm concerned. Fuck you and everything you stand for.

Fin.

And we're rolling... - 09.10.2007

Hello, cherubs.

This is what I sent to Mr. Csonka as my sample. I will keep a very abbreviated version of this in my column, but it's no longer as topical as it was last week despite still being a major issue (and I assume I'll have more column-worthy thoughts as this ordeal progresses). But here it is, just as a memento, a stepping stone to my future success perhaps? Thank you if you're sweet enough to take the time to read this.

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As you are of course aware, in the last week WWE have suspended around a dozen or so wrestlers due to buying from Signature pharmacy. Two lists were also published with names of past customers, such as Orton, Batista, Johnny Nitro, Chavo, Umaga, Regal, Kennedy, and the late Chris Benoit and Eddie Guerrero. Not to mention WWE‘s Kurt Angle (he will never be TNA‘s Kurt Angle). Of these, Orton and Batista are main-eventing Unforgiven. The rest look to have been suspended, as they were written out in the last set of tapings, with Nitro losing his ECW ‘world’ championship to CM Punk. Eugene was also fired, but who cares.

To be honest, I’m more concerned with how this is going to affect TV than the situation itself. I doubt anything within the industry will change no matter what happens. The landscape only seems to really alter on television, and while I’m sure things have improved a bit since the last generation left our screens, there’s not truly been an internal alteration on the same scale as the Attitude era. Those monumental shifts seem exclusive to TV. Whenever something massive DOES happen, it has a profound NEGATIVE effect, such as WCW’s deterioration. By all accounts, the Monday night wars were over long before they were over, and the result was simply what it was before - WWF/E stands tall and big men/junkies rule the roost. Only now, the television shows are a bit better.

That’s the case in point here. Even if half the wrestlers were suspended, I see only changes in television broadcasting and not in the industry as a whole. If Cena had been caught out, perhaps things may have been slightly different, but as it stands it’s just a few mid-carders, a couple of minor champions and that’s about it. This creates a dearth on TV, as they have had to rewrite the major storyline (Vince’s Deathernity) for at least the second time due to Kennedy (more on him in a bit). They’ve had to hotshot the ECW belt to CM Punk a week after he should have won it anyway, with no real challengers lined up. They’ve had to give the Intercontinental title to Umaga’s former job-boy Jeff Hardy, which hardly sends the right message as to their attitudes towards drug users but I digress. The fact is, this has had a ripple effect that could have been enormous if the right people went down. As it is, we instead get just over a month without Commissioner Regal and somehow this is deemed a crisis.

However, from a professional standpoint, the suspended parties deserve this at the very least. I’m sure it’s hard to stay in shape without the drugs but it’s not as if it’s impossible. Some of these people are just stupid, Chavo especially. I don’t know about you, but if I found my uncle dead at the age of 38 as a result of something he didn’t actually HAVE to do or necessarily enjoyed doing, I’d seriously consider not doing the same thing as him. Instead, Chavo ordered a plethora of performance-enhancing drugs after Eddie’s passing. I know it wasn't discovered until now that Eddie was still on the gas when he perished, but seriously. If Chavo is truly that naïve, he might as well have climbed in the coffin with him. I know that sounds harsh, but seriously. Chavo Guerrero is an idiot.

That’s nothing compared to Ken Kennedy, however. Now, I will say I enjoy watching Kennedy. He’s a great second-tier heel and I’d like to see him win a World title at some point, though he’s got a lot of work to do before that happens. Ken Kennedy the performer is awesome. However, Ken Kennedy the man is a moron. Pure and simple. WWE put their faith in Kennedy to protect their causes, they literally entrusted the entire public perception of the company on him at some points. And like any good professional, Kennedy grabbed the bull by the horns. Unfortunately, he had all manner of soap and shit on his hands and derailed in record time.

To recap, Kennedy wrote a web-log denouncing the ENTIRE UNITED STATES as being fat and lazy without the intelligence necessarily to make their own decisions and relying on others. While this is true of many people, the fact Kennedy was talking about how we are all ‘accountable for our actions’ whilst also lying through his teeth is quite frankly outrageous. Now, if Kennedy apologises and realises he can make a positive impact then credit to him. But he won’t, he’ll never be allowed another PR appearance as long as this continues because he will blow it. Let’s not forget his lies about only taking steroids in the Independents because Wellness cleaned him up, as well as repeatedly misquoting the Wellness policy. I doubt he even read it until they asked him to talk about its finer points. I will forgive Kennedy to a certain extent because he was put in a very precarious situation, but as Kennedy himself said - we’re all accountable for our own actions. At this point, Kennedy’s lucky to be employed.

All of this makes me remember why John Cena is the champ. Cena works more matches, more events, more appearances, than anyone else in the industry (certainly In the WWE). He is the centrepiece of the promotion and not once has he failed to hold up his end of the bargain. He’s limited, sure, and he’s no technical marvel, but it simply doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t even consider him any more limited than Shawn Michaels, anyway. And was his name on the list? No, of course not. Because he’s either not taking steroids (not all the big men do), or he’s not stupid enough to buy them online, or at the very least is not stupid enough to buy them himself and just takes other peoples’. Good for him, and good for WWE on this one.

However, one right doesn’t overrule several wrongs. Although I seriously doubt much will come of this when the dust has settled, the fact is WWE messed up to an insane degree by allowing this to continue. Vince was almost indicted more than a decade ago for steroid issues, and yet here we are again. It’s almost mind-boggling, to be honest. I just hope some small good comes of all this, otherwise it’s a complete waste of time.

One last thing, Vince - clown shoes? Are you kidding? Way to get Congress on your side there, you know, the people who have the power to determine what happens to your empire. You almost deserve to fail just for missing the point to such a value. Nobend.

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