Tuesday, July 31, 2007
#147. Buying Cloak of Shrouded Men
Oh! So, maybe if you actually want to read, Theoretical Reader, the book I've just published and the story I've been talking about (not that you haven't been reading the blogs, yes?) for the past few years. Anyhoo, Amazon is one place you can find it, but iUniverse, the publisher, certainly has it, too!
Thursday, July 19, 2007
#146. Author Copies
Houston, we have the author copies of Cloak of Shrouded Men. Repeat, the book is real. The journey only begins...
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
#145. Benoit Tragedy
With a bunch of time passed now, the Benoit tragedy is, if not more easily understood, easier to grasp, to contextualize. Wrestling has certainly been thrust into the public eye again, and for every news program looking for a spin from competitors, past and present, it's been interesting to see who would show up, and what they would say. Brian Lawler was an early interview I saw, and he came off as nutty, even though his defense of wrestling was mostly spot-on. The best representative yet has been Chris Jericho, who has been quick to point out what's been obvious to everyone but the media and probably most of the public, that for whatever else it was, the Benoit tragedy was not an indication of wrestling itself, its past or ongoing issues, but of Benoit himself, and, based on how it's been taken, on the public and its perspective, warped as it is, on wrestling, which is a sport that, while sometimes wildly popular, can only ever truly seem to be understood by its fans.
Another recent statement came from Kurt Angle, a wrestler many have remarked as being as obsessed or if not moreso as Chris Benoit with the appeal of the ring. Angle made headlines last year when, despite efforts by WWE to retain the star by giving him time rest (and apparently to put him right back on the same full-time schedule as before, despite notable exceptions for this grueling commitment to past stars such as Bill Goldberg and Brock Lesnar), he jumped ship and right back into the ring for TNA, which is a promotion that demands less on the body with a lighter load of work. Some interpreted it as Angle refusing to give up on the thing that seemed to be, as with seemingly so many stars, killing him. In the Benoit statement, Angle only confirmed what many have been arguing, that the lighter schedule is exactly what he needed all along, and maybe what other stars do, too. Even though this doesn't seem at this point to have any real bearing on the Benoit tragedy (the guy literally made the schedule work for him, excluding the wear to his body), it marks the first time Kurt has acknowledged publically what the decision to join TNA has meant for him. It's that kind of honesty that will get wrestling somewhere, in the midst of all of this. It's just another barrier being shattered. That, and the exposure the drug culture is getting, perhaps at exactly the right time. WWE has already made a considerable commitment to cleaning up its act in the wake of Eddie Guerrero's untimely death. Now it's bound for the next and perhaps final step in the process.
Professional wrestling deserves respect. As incredible as it may seem to say so, the Benoit tragedy may be the moment people come to realize that, and it'll be thanks to stars like Chris Jericho and Kurt Angle that this triumph is attained.
Another recent statement came from Kurt Angle, a wrestler many have remarked as being as obsessed or if not moreso as Chris Benoit with the appeal of the ring. Angle made headlines last year when, despite efforts by WWE to retain the star by giving him time rest (and apparently to put him right back on the same full-time schedule as before, despite notable exceptions for this grueling commitment to past stars such as Bill Goldberg and Brock Lesnar), he jumped ship and right back into the ring for TNA, which is a promotion that demands less on the body with a lighter load of work. Some interpreted it as Angle refusing to give up on the thing that seemed to be, as with seemingly so many stars, killing him. In the Benoit statement, Angle only confirmed what many have been arguing, that the lighter schedule is exactly what he needed all along, and maybe what other stars do, too. Even though this doesn't seem at this point to have any real bearing on the Benoit tragedy (the guy literally made the schedule work for him, excluding the wear to his body), it marks the first time Kurt has acknowledged publically what the decision to join TNA has meant for him. It's that kind of honesty that will get wrestling somewhere, in the midst of all of this. It's just another barrier being shattered. That, and the exposure the drug culture is getting, perhaps at exactly the right time. WWE has already made a considerable commitment to cleaning up its act in the wake of Eddie Guerrero's untimely death. Now it's bound for the next and perhaps final step in the process.
Professional wrestling deserves respect. As incredible as it may seem to say so, the Benoit tragedy may be the moment people come to realize that, and it'll be thanks to stars like Chris Jericho and Kurt Angle that this triumph is attained.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
#144. Chris Benoit Tragedy
Funny, that I haven't yet converted the wrestling news site link to something I'm using myself. Left Power Wrestling probably sometime last year, but I've been a WrestleView regular for a while now. One of their columnists has summed up my continuing understanding of the Benoit tragedy quite well here.
(Incidently, I'd still patron PW if it weren't infested with pop-ups, which WV is free from, so I'll leave that link up in case some (theoretical) readers can sidestep that malady.)
(Incidently, I'd still patron PW if it weren't infested with pop-ups, which WV is free from, so I'll leave that link up in case some (theoretical) readers can sidestep that malady.)
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
#143. Chris Benoit
Can't believe the news today...
Yesterday I was finishing up my latest column for Paperback Reader, well aware that it was stretching past the half hour mark at 8, when Raw was broadcasting another three hour edition of its regular programming. So when I finally got out into the living room, I had my sister switch to the USA network, because she hadn't been aware of the event. We found ourselves watching Steve Austin speaking about Chris Benoit. I didn't understand what was happening. I knew that Chris had pulled out of Vengeance the previous evening so he could go home for personal reasons, so I thought we should call my other sister, who might know what was really going on. She hadn't been watching (had, in fact, also forgotten about the altered start time), but the only thing she knew was what she'd been reading on the Internet recently, that it was illness that caused Chris to exit so abruptly. That wasn't what I'd heard.
Then the television made it all but clear. Chris, his wife and his son, were all found dead earlier in the day. Just like Eddie Guerrero, a personal hero, a favorite wrestler, was gone.
I had to decide if I was going to go to work today. I could've called out last night, but I was so baffled by the sudden news, I still couldn't figure out what to do, even by the end of the program. This morning, I still didn't know what I would do. Finally, I made the decision to call out, because I had to know what the world knew, not just that he and most of his family were dead, but what was being reported as to the cause. I also wanted to know if his death would be reported in the paper. It was, and this was the first time, after hours of dreading what it could be, that the first suspicion was that he had killed his wife and son on the weekend, and then himself on Monday.
And I can't believe that. I've spent the last few hours scouring, as the name of the blog implies, and that's as much the conclusion as anyone's reached, based on what we've been told. And I still can't bring myself to believe it. As with anything else, death has become a prominent fixture in wrestling, be it Eddie Guerrero two years ago, Owen Hart, the Von Ehrichs, and on and on, but this is the most difficult one to understand. We watch these men compete week in and week out. They literally become a part of our lives. They may compete in a sport where most of what happens is predetermined, but what they go through is as real as it can be. Some have speculated that the stress of the ring, of the wrestling experience, finally got to him. And it probably wouldn't be too hard to understand how. Aside from Eddie, Chris can be likened, more than with any other current superstar, to Kurt Angle, who became famous not because of his prowess, but for his inability to walk away, even to his own personal harm, to the point where he went from one company to another, when he was supposed to be taking some time off, just so he could continue to compete.
I'm not condemning Angle. And I'm not condemning Chris, whose dedication was legendary. More than any other wrestler in the modern era, Chris Benoit was the epitomy of commitment. He truly loved this business of professional wrestling. And so I can't come to any easy conclusions to how his life could have ended like this. In many ways, someone elsewhere made the proper allusion when they referenced Phil Hartman, the great comic who was involved in another such incident a decade ago. It's just so hard to understand.
I cannot conclude any other way than to express my gratitude for having had the privilege of watching Chris over the years in the wrestling ring. No, he was never the top star. But he was always the best. Back in 2004, when he and Eddie captured heavyweight titles and Pro Wrestling Illustrated picked him over Eddie for the top position on their annual PWI 500 ranking, I couldn't help but be angry, because I felt Eddie deserved, despite not having that Royal Rumble win, or the WrestleMania main event, that honor. But that was something Eddie didn't need. More than anyone, Chris truly deserved the recognition, to be named, for one brief moment, the top man in the game. Eddie was the showman. But Chris was the spirit of the sport.
Today, wrestling mourns a giant.
Yesterday I was finishing up my latest column for Paperback Reader, well aware that it was stretching past the half hour mark at 8, when Raw was broadcasting another three hour edition of its regular programming. So when I finally got out into the living room, I had my sister switch to the USA network, because she hadn't been aware of the event. We found ourselves watching Steve Austin speaking about Chris Benoit. I didn't understand what was happening. I knew that Chris had pulled out of Vengeance the previous evening so he could go home for personal reasons, so I thought we should call my other sister, who might know what was really going on. She hadn't been watching (had, in fact, also forgotten about the altered start time), but the only thing she knew was what she'd been reading on the Internet recently, that it was illness that caused Chris to exit so abruptly. That wasn't what I'd heard.
Then the television made it all but clear. Chris, his wife and his son, were all found dead earlier in the day. Just like Eddie Guerrero, a personal hero, a favorite wrestler, was gone.
I had to decide if I was going to go to work today. I could've called out last night, but I was so baffled by the sudden news, I still couldn't figure out what to do, even by the end of the program. This morning, I still didn't know what I would do. Finally, I made the decision to call out, because I had to know what the world knew, not just that he and most of his family were dead, but what was being reported as to the cause. I also wanted to know if his death would be reported in the paper. It was, and this was the first time, after hours of dreading what it could be, that the first suspicion was that he had killed his wife and son on the weekend, and then himself on Monday.
And I can't believe that. I've spent the last few hours scouring, as the name of the blog implies, and that's as much the conclusion as anyone's reached, based on what we've been told. And I still can't bring myself to believe it. As with anything else, death has become a prominent fixture in wrestling, be it Eddie Guerrero two years ago, Owen Hart, the Von Ehrichs, and on and on, but this is the most difficult one to understand. We watch these men compete week in and week out. They literally become a part of our lives. They may compete in a sport where most of what happens is predetermined, but what they go through is as real as it can be. Some have speculated that the stress of the ring, of the wrestling experience, finally got to him. And it probably wouldn't be too hard to understand how. Aside from Eddie, Chris can be likened, more than with any other current superstar, to Kurt Angle, who became famous not because of his prowess, but for his inability to walk away, even to his own personal harm, to the point where he went from one company to another, when he was supposed to be taking some time off, just so he could continue to compete.
I'm not condemning Angle. And I'm not condemning Chris, whose dedication was legendary. More than any other wrestler in the modern era, Chris Benoit was the epitomy of commitment. He truly loved this business of professional wrestling. And so I can't come to any easy conclusions to how his life could have ended like this. In many ways, someone elsewhere made the proper allusion when they referenced Phil Hartman, the great comic who was involved in another such incident a decade ago. It's just so hard to understand.
I cannot conclude any other way than to express my gratitude for having had the privilege of watching Chris over the years in the wrestling ring. No, he was never the top star. But he was always the best. Back in 2004, when he and Eddie captured heavyweight titles and Pro Wrestling Illustrated picked him over Eddie for the top position on their annual PWI 500 ranking, I couldn't help but be angry, because I felt Eddie deserved, despite not having that Royal Rumble win, or the WrestleMania main event, that honor. But that was something Eddie didn't need. More than anyone, Chris truly deserved the recognition, to be named, for one brief moment, the top man in the game. Eddie was the showman. But Chris was the spirit of the sport.
Today, wrestling mourns a giant.
Monday, June 18, 2007
#142. Cloak of Shrouded Men Proof, 2007 Draft
Oh shiiiit! I just got the proofs back on my book! First, there will be some textual corrections. Second: Cooooooooooooooooooooooooooooool!
Sorry if that seems corny to you. But it's my book! My honest-to-god, I'm-going-to-be-published-even-if-I-had-to-do-it-myself book!
Okay! Now that that's behind us, the 2007 WWE draft. And there were some big moves, from last Monday to this past Sunday's lottery picks. Raw and Smackdown each got ten, while ECW drew five less. But really, I think everyone can celebrate:
Raw
Sorry if that seems corny to you. But it's my book! My honest-to-god, I'm-going-to-be-published-even-if-I-had-to-do-it-myself book!
Okay! Now that that's behind us, the 2007 WWE draft. And there were some big moves, from last Monday to this past Sunday's lottery picks. Raw and Smackdown each got ten, while ECW drew five less. But really, I think everyone can celebrate:
Raw
- King Booker - I really thought he was making this move two years ago, but here he's finally going. He's been played out on Smackdown, even had a lengthy championship run, and one major character change (which I hope disappears in the brand switch). He's proven that he's a valuable member of the WWE roster, no matter where he is. On Raw, maybe he won't be a top contender, but he won't be overlooked. Raw is like the big family filled with big personalities right now, where the company's attention is clearly focused. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, and you'll see why with Booker.
- Bobby Lashley - There was so much talk that Umaga was basically a part of ECW's roster that everyone overlooked the obvious: that Lashley was being groomed for the big stage. He's proven that the company's faith in him isn't wasted, that he can take big spots and run with them, even if he isn't a top performer in any category. He's game, that's what really makes him worth every penny, game for whatever's thrown at him, because he'll sell it, and still come out strong in the end. The dude lost his title to Vince McMahon. And nobody thought he lost anything, regardless of the circumstances. That's a power you can easily overlook. Well, no more.
- Snitsky - He's the kind of patented psycho monster the company loves so much, first and best embodied by Sid. He's better than when he was last on the brand. If he's used as is, he'll be another Umaga.
- Mr. Kennedy - WWE wants another big star; by placing him on Raw, the company is finally going to have him. Bottom line, end of discussion. Misssssssterrrr Kennedy!
- Paul London and Brian Kendrick - Despite the near-constant threats that if London does his flying off turnbuckles once more, his star only continues to rise. And here his team is, out of the reach of cruiserweights, which can only mean the company's confidence in them has grown. Brothers, they really are the future of the tag team.
- The Sandman - Certainly introduces a unique element to the brand, and perhaps, among all these other names, will be the one to watch, to see how he's going to be used. We know at this point that he can actually wrestle. But is that what he's going to do? One way or another, the face of ECW has changed once more, and another of its favorite sons is given the chance to break the mold. That's what this guy does, right?
- William Regal - He's besmirched! Oh, come on! You all know that's exactly what you've been waiting for!
- Jillian Hall - Even Smackdown's Divas graduate to Raw. There goes another! Sing, baby, sing!
- The Great Khali - Somebody for Mark Henry to feud with. And possibly Batista. There's still life left in this giant, and opportunities.
- Torrie Wilson - Never seemed at home on Raw, anyway. Welcome home!
- Chris Masters - And here, finally, we see Smackdown's achievement. Masters is clearly being shifted so he can have a chance to shine, outside the clutter. There was just no room for him on Raw, and it was only going to get worse. On Smackdown, with its more intimate setting, superstars are free to be as big as they can be, and be celebrated as much as for what they do as for who they are. Masters can do that here, but...
- Ric Flair - ...can do it better! Who better than Naitch? Wooo! And, really, hasn't this been natural all along?
- Kenny Dykstra - Same deal as Masters. Raw prepared him, but now he needs Smackdown to go the rest of the way. It's ironic, that Smackdown develops the next generation superstars in some respects, while nurturing others left suffering at the same time. It's the paradox of Friday nights.
- Hardcore Holly - Imagine this guy in a feud with Finlay. Wooo!
- The Major Brothers - Uh, new contenders for Deuce & Domino's tag titles!
- Victoria - Really intrigued by this one, to see where she's going to go on this brand, where the Divas don't wrestle as much as they give attitude. Hey, wait, in some respects, that's Victoria! So, save your knees!
- Eugene - A wrestling savant. He's like Smackdown personified!
- The Boogeyman - Kevin Thorne, meet the thorn in you side. Worms intended.
- Chris Benoit - Ever since Kurt Angle jumped ship (alas! only this title eluded you!), this brand's been looking for the kind of fully-functional star who can take the extreme in every degree, who will develop what's there and make every look good in the process. Now, just imagine the first Benoit-CM Punk match...
- Viscera - The 2007 ECW Show!
- The Miz - Be it Hardcore Holly or Rene Dupree, ECW's been quietly attempting to rehabilitate careers for superstars who've been unfairly kicked to the curb (carrying on a company tradition, in fact). Guess what, Mizfits? This guy's in that category, too.
- Johnny Nitro - This is perhaps the most interesting draft choice of all. Why Nitro? Why ECW? He may be the missing piece of the puzzle on this brand, that's why, that's what.
Friday, June 15, 2007
#141. Cloak of Shrouded Men Editing, A.C. Hall, Paperback Reader, Books, Wrestling
Well...I suppose updating once a month is better than...nothing?
Anyhoo, Cloak of Shrouded Men has kicked and screamed through its final revisions (I hate that stuff! even when it produces necessary and beneficial changes!), meaning it's that much closer to being published via iUniverse, which I can't be more excited about. I keep entertaining myself with all the possibilities of how great people are gonna think it is. I'm so happy for myself! Still haven't heard back about The Jingle Jangle, but I can be patient sometimes, really! Though I really hope to hear positive word on it...
One way or another, I'm still writing. A.C. Hall, a fellow columnist at Paperback, has invited me to contribute a story for a fiction anthology his other haunt, Stumblebum Studios, will be putting out, and based on the theme, I've cobbled together something about a time-traveling Nicola Tesla, whom I last encountered in Christopher Nolan's superb The Prestige (to see my ideas of good movies, be sure to stop by the Observation Lounge at Lower Decks, which has now completely segued from a Star Trek site to a general genre lair, which I've become comfortable with; I'm working on a flashbacks feature for Lost, the first thing I'll have done in relation to that site since a 40th anniversary Star Trek story last fall, the first in a potential series, if I have the time). And I think I'm closer to writing a poem worthy of 9/11 (after all those anniversary pieces were lost in the Great Crash of '05) and the Iraq war, to be called "'Cause You Want to Believe She's Infallible." I can't wait to find the time...
Speaking of Paperback Reader, the recent return of a past contributor, along with a site redesign by operator Bart Gerardi, has me thinking again how much I appreciate my ongoing work there. It's made me that much more engaged in the landscape of comic books, and given me a regular platform to write about them, even if my reviews have slowed to a trickle, though the weekly column persists. I was set to write two reviews, and I've been on the computer long enough now, this evening, but the column only seems to command those thoughts more and more, now that my commitment to 52 is over (I reviewed every issue of that breakthrough weekly DC series). If you can't find me here, chances are you can always find me there!
Or at work. Sometimes, it seems that's what I do, besides eat and sleep. But I read, too! And at the bookstore, I keep finding more things I won't be getting around to reading very soon (I've been stuck reading William Least-Heat Moon's River-Horse for months now). But I'll get more into that later.
Another thing I'll be returning for is thoughts on the new WWE draft (begun the night Vince McMahon "died"). But I'll leave with this thought: at this year's WrestleMania, John Cena-Shawn Michaels was an instant classic. And this was definitely a year to have something like that. But, as I said, more thoughts in a few days...
Anyhoo, Cloak of Shrouded Men has kicked and screamed through its final revisions (I hate that stuff! even when it produces necessary and beneficial changes!), meaning it's that much closer to being published via iUniverse, which I can't be more excited about. I keep entertaining myself with all the possibilities of how great people are gonna think it is. I'm so happy for myself! Still haven't heard back about The Jingle Jangle, but I can be patient sometimes, really! Though I really hope to hear positive word on it...
One way or another, I'm still writing. A.C. Hall, a fellow columnist at Paperback, has invited me to contribute a story for a fiction anthology his other haunt, Stumblebum Studios, will be putting out, and based on the theme, I've cobbled together something about a time-traveling Nicola Tesla, whom I last encountered in Christopher Nolan's superb The Prestige (to see my ideas of good movies, be sure to stop by the Observation Lounge at Lower Decks, which has now completely segued from a Star Trek site to a general genre lair, which I've become comfortable with; I'm working on a flashbacks feature for Lost, the first thing I'll have done in relation to that site since a 40th anniversary Star Trek story last fall, the first in a potential series, if I have the time). And I think I'm closer to writing a poem worthy of 9/11 (after all those anniversary pieces were lost in the Great Crash of '05) and the Iraq war, to be called "'Cause You Want to Believe She's Infallible." I can't wait to find the time...
Speaking of Paperback Reader, the recent return of a past contributor, along with a site redesign by operator Bart Gerardi, has me thinking again how much I appreciate my ongoing work there. It's made me that much more engaged in the landscape of comic books, and given me a regular platform to write about them, even if my reviews have slowed to a trickle, though the weekly column persists. I was set to write two reviews, and I've been on the computer long enough now, this evening, but the column only seems to command those thoughts more and more, now that my commitment to 52 is over (I reviewed every issue of that breakthrough weekly DC series). If you can't find me here, chances are you can always find me there!
Or at work. Sometimes, it seems that's what I do, besides eat and sleep. But I read, too! And at the bookstore, I keep finding more things I won't be getting around to reading very soon (I've been stuck reading William Least-Heat Moon's River-Horse for months now). But I'll get more into that later.
Another thing I'll be returning for is thoughts on the new WWE draft (begun the night Vince McMahon "died"). But I'll leave with this thought: at this year's WrestleMania, John Cena-Shawn Michaels was an instant classic. And this was definitely a year to have something like that. But, as I said, more thoughts in a few days...
Monday, May 07, 2007
#140. Santino Marella, Cloak of Shrouded Men
Tried making a post a few weeks ago. Didn't work out. Hoping Santino Marella, WWE's newest Intercontinental champion (and blatant attempt to woo back Bruno Sammartino, not that this is a bad thing) will appear tonight on Raw...
But the real sense of this note is the fact that The Cloak of Shrouded Men is now in pre-publication! I ended up going with iUniverse (please don't be mad, Bart! even though that Paperback Reader Quarterly seems to have...not published), and started the process last Tuesday. Can't wait for the whole process to have run through. My book! In print! And the day earlier, I sent a query for The Jingle Jangle. I can only hope good things for the poetry collection, too...
But the real sense of this note is the fact that The Cloak of Shrouded Men is now in pre-publication! I ended up going with iUniverse (please don't be mad, Bart! even though that Paperback Reader Quarterly seems to have...not published), and started the process last Tuesday. Can't wait for the whole process to have run through. My book! In print! And the day earlier, I sent a query for The Jingle Jangle. I can only hope good things for the poetry collection, too...
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
#139. WrestleMania 23 Preview
Well...haven't done this in a while: Let's talk wrestling!
And let's start by noting how different the scene is today than just nine months ago, at least as far as WWE is concerned. Nine months ago, ECW was still a big question mark. How was it going to return, exactly? Could it sustain its own show? Rob Van Dam had cashed in his Money in the Bank at One Night Stand II and was now WWE as well as ECW champion. Sabu was a major player. Kurt Angle had just jumped brands (brands, not promotions, at this point) for the second time that calender year. Rey Mysterio was World champion, worrying about JBL, the Great Khali, anything but King Booker (who wasn't even King Booker yet). Batista wasn't even back yet.
And then in the span of a month, everything started to change again. RVD and Sabu sabotaged their momentum on the side of the road, Edge won the WWE title, Big Show got the ECW belt, and King Booker bested Mysterio. Heck, even Batista was back, finally. Now, if you will, flash-forward to the present.
John Cena is champion again. Heck, people don't even seem to mind anymore. He's being embraced. Batista is champion again. You might call this a flashback to 2005, but the circumstances have wildly changed for both stars. Batista's past is long behind him now. Now, he's the beloved champion who was once forced to surrender his title, but made a heroic comeback to reclaim his thrown from pretenders. Bobby Lashley has the ECW title, and a third era for that brand has begun, one for the first time without Paul Heyman. This is the era set for WrestleMania 23, and it may make for the best WrestleMania in years.
I'll usher updates as they become available. Two weeks left!
And let's start by noting how different the scene is today than just nine months ago, at least as far as WWE is concerned. Nine months ago, ECW was still a big question mark. How was it going to return, exactly? Could it sustain its own show? Rob Van Dam had cashed in his Money in the Bank at One Night Stand II and was now WWE as well as ECW champion. Sabu was a major player. Kurt Angle had just jumped brands (brands, not promotions, at this point) for the second time that calender year. Rey Mysterio was World champion, worrying about JBL, the Great Khali, anything but King Booker (who wasn't even King Booker yet). Batista wasn't even back yet.
And then in the span of a month, everything started to change again. RVD and Sabu sabotaged their momentum on the side of the road, Edge won the WWE title, Big Show got the ECW belt, and King Booker bested Mysterio. Heck, even Batista was back, finally. Now, if you will, flash-forward to the present.
John Cena is champion again. Heck, people don't even seem to mind anymore. He's being embraced. Batista is champion again. You might call this a flashback to 2005, but the circumstances have wildly changed for both stars. Batista's past is long behind him now. Now, he's the beloved champion who was once forced to surrender his title, but made a heroic comeback to reclaim his thrown from pretenders. Bobby Lashley has the ECW title, and a third era for that brand has begun, one for the first time without Paul Heyman. This is the era set for WrestleMania 23, and it may make for the best WrestleMania in years.
- At the top of the card you have Batista defending his championship as he challenges the Undertaker's legendary undefeated streak. Naysayers have been suggesting he won't be able to snap it, because his bosses see him as too little dedicated to the sport, that Batista being the man to end the streak wouldn't be appropriate. They call him the new Ultimate Warrior, a fairweather wrestler, like Goldberg, or Brock Lesnar. Me, I don't see that. Batista is his own man, and I believe in his commitment. I believe that he may even see his career as a debt owed to Eddie Guerrero, the man who truly ushered him into the ring. When he gave up that title more than a year ago, I believe it really pained him. If he lacks commitment to any degree, it's because he knows his body can't withstand the rigors required of most other competitors. Two major injuries in his WWE career may already have made that point for him. The Undertaker has come a long way since I proclaimed his career over when he feuded with JBL some two years ago. I believe once again that he's as great an asset to the company as he has ever been. But sooner or later, his days in the ring will become so far in between that he won't truly be considered a contender, but a special attraction. Will he deliver a match for the memories? There's no doubt about it. But does he have another championship run in him? I think this year he loses. Whatever it ultimately means in Batista's career, however long that is, however much longer he's champion himself, this moment belongs to him.
- On the other end, there's Cena defending his own title against Shawn Michaels, another monumental figure in WWE lore, who has proven time and time again that you can never count him out. Win or lose the actual match, John Cena going to be the real winner here, just because he's been given a match against HBK at WrestleMania, where the Showstopper stops the show each and every year.
- In the Battle of the Billionaires, Umaga will defeat Lashley, likely because Chris Masters, irate over his Masterlock finally being broken, will interfere. However, if that's not how the match finishes, Lashley wins, simply because it's far more likely Vince McMahon will volunteer to have his head shaved than Donald Trump. Either way, there's Steve Austin here!
- MitB III will be the best yet, simply because the caliber of competitors is at an all-time high. Edge seems destined to win, simply because of his own undefeated streak at this event, but the climax will definitely involve Randy Orton, because these two are going to be feuding very soon.
- Kane beats Khali, more than likely.
- Ashley captures the Women's championship from Melina.
- Chris Benoit will likely retain the U.S. championship over MVP.
- The ECW match will be interesting. I peg the ECW Originals as winners, but the reverse could work, too, if someone steps up to provide an awesome finish for the group. Either way, it's nice that RVD and Sabu get to cap their work over the past year with something like this, even if they've been not exactly given the same opportunities throughout.
- I project Carlito to wrestle Ric Flair, probably announced next week on Raw, and emerge triumphant. I'm so glad they're doing this for Carlito, who completely deserves what is fast becoming Chris Jericho 2.0, an improved version that may shoot past Y2J's success into the realm of The Rock.
- I also see Paul London and Brian Kendrick defending their tag team titles against M-N-M, and probably retaining.
- And Chavo Guerrero defending his cruiserweight title against Gregory Helms, though the winner could be either one. Though these final two matches, if they happen at all, as much as I'd love for them to happen on the main card, may take place on Heat, or something to that effect.
I'll usher updates as they become available. Two weeks left!
Friday, March 16, 2007
#138. A.C Hall, Poetry, Comic Books, Cloak of Shrouded Men, Paperback Reader
Okay, okay...Am I at the right blog? Yes! Okay! Safe to continue!
Now that last entry's...unpleasantries are past us, let's move forward, shall we? There may be guests. Fellow Paperback Reader contributor A.C. Hall moonlights at another comics site, Stumbebum Studios (I don't get that, either), where he writes a column called Ring Psychology (still lost, Ace, which is something I've been callin' ya, bud, in my head; at least now it's out there). Several months ago, he came 'round with a few writing prompts for a few of his friends, to use for the column, and among them was one that asked those friends to reimagine the concluding arc of The Matrix. This week, Ace included my version, which was one of the few responses I still remain proud of. If you liked it, too, that's why I'm writing this post, because I probably owe ya, in case you followed that link and found your way here and wondered if there was anything actually worth reading.
Sometimes there is.
Sometimes! And I'm not even speaking of the regularity, or lack thereof, of the actual blogging on this blog. If you review the archives (and brave ye those waters, if you must), you'll discover that when I began, I pretty much stuck some slappy things every days at this old Monk.
I think now would be a good time to apologize for some of the things I'm saying, because I'm saying them funny. I don't do that. Much. You can find poetry at the Scouring Monk. I won't apologize for that, not on your life, my new and good friend. Anyway, speaking of poetry, while I was home, fretting over Midtown shipping matters you might discover in my own column, I sculpted a new poetry collection out of the material available on my parents' computer, where I wrote most of my formative work upon leaving the college workshop. This one ended up being called Card Games. But you aren't really interested in that at this time, are you? Ah, well, I'll get you another time.
I wrote up that Matrix plot basically around the existing material for Reloaded and Revolutions, and maybe that's sometimes clear and maybe sometimes it's not. I hope Ace uses my write-up for the RoboCop prompt, because I like that one even more. But I'm not always basing all of my ideas on other people's ideas. My spanking new ComicSpace page, which you can find here, boasts about three original comics projects I've been working at for a couple of years now, Bandit, The Astrals, and The Conformists. If you'd asked me three years ago which one I'd prefer and were most eager to pursue, it'd have been Bandit, no question, and it wouldn't have been just because, at that time, it was the only one of the three extant. That one's got the longest story. The Astrals mythology has been expanding since its original proposal to the aborted Cabal from my Digital Webbing days, but it's a story that's more easily contained and thus might be easier to introduce first. The Conformists is a concept of characters more than anything, and I love those characters, but the more I think about them, the more I wonder if they have a specific story to tell as well. I have other concepts, one that the boys behind the Death Lurker Saga have in their court, others sprung from other prompts. Many of my favorite ideas come from prompts, actually. Don't let anyone tell you that you can't come up with something good just because someone asked you before you thought of it yourself. That's the story behind Lost, after all. In my earlier years, I wasn't quite as good at it as I would become, but I've really come to value the method.
But I'm still just a hack who isn't actually being published. I'm editing my first novel at the moment, woven from three acts written during successive NaNoWrMos. It's called The Cloak of Shrouded Men and I'm going the indy route, self-publishing. It's called taking fate into my own hands. And I was sure I was done the story, too, but I'm come up with a coda, which I may include in the volume, a most appropriate conclusion to the affair, much as I discovered a new beginning a few years ago.
And did I mention writing for Paperback Reader? Y'know, that's something I'm constantly struggling with. You may have come here after having read something I wrote, but you've got to understand, my experience with my writing is that very few people actually end up reading it. A decade ago, it would have been because I didn't show it to anyone. Now, though, now I just don't know. I do know that I've been writing a weekly column for nine months now, and I've not once gotten a response, beyond my colleages, from it. I'm constantly thinking of pitching the whole thing in. Why bother, right? Well, maybe because if I'd never written for Paperback, not a single review, not a single column, Ace'd never have asked me about those prompts, and you would've never come here. Strange kind of way, how things happen.
Well, things'll keep on happening, one way or another, and I will continue blogging away at the Monk, and I will add more friends at ComicSpace, and someone will read what I write, and I will be published, one way or another. I will tell my stories, and everything will sort of work out.
But yeah, you came here for The Matrix?
Now that last entry's...unpleasantries are past us, let's move forward, shall we? There may be guests. Fellow Paperback Reader contributor A.C. Hall moonlights at another comics site, Stumbebum Studios (I don't get that, either), where he writes a column called Ring Psychology (still lost, Ace, which is something I've been callin' ya, bud, in my head; at least now it's out there). Several months ago, he came 'round with a few writing prompts for a few of his friends, to use for the column, and among them was one that asked those friends to reimagine the concluding arc of The Matrix. This week, Ace included my version, which was one of the few responses I still remain proud of. If you liked it, too, that's why I'm writing this post, because I probably owe ya, in case you followed that link and found your way here and wondered if there was anything actually worth reading.
Sometimes there is.
Sometimes! And I'm not even speaking of the regularity, or lack thereof, of the actual blogging on this blog. If you review the archives (and brave ye those waters, if you must), you'll discover that when I began, I pretty much stuck some slappy things every days at this old Monk.
I think now would be a good time to apologize for some of the things I'm saying, because I'm saying them funny. I don't do that. Much. You can find poetry at the Scouring Monk. I won't apologize for that, not on your life, my new and good friend. Anyway, speaking of poetry, while I was home, fretting over Midtown shipping matters you might discover in my own column, I sculpted a new poetry collection out of the material available on my parents' computer, where I wrote most of my formative work upon leaving the college workshop. This one ended up being called Card Games. But you aren't really interested in that at this time, are you? Ah, well, I'll get you another time.
I wrote up that Matrix plot basically around the existing material for Reloaded and Revolutions, and maybe that's sometimes clear and maybe sometimes it's not. I hope Ace uses my write-up for the RoboCop prompt, because I like that one even more. But I'm not always basing all of my ideas on other people's ideas. My spanking new ComicSpace page, which you can find here, boasts about three original comics projects I've been working at for a couple of years now, Bandit, The Astrals, and The Conformists. If you'd asked me three years ago which one I'd prefer and were most eager to pursue, it'd have been Bandit, no question, and it wouldn't have been just because, at that time, it was the only one of the three extant. That one's got the longest story. The Astrals mythology has been expanding since its original proposal to the aborted Cabal from my Digital Webbing days, but it's a story that's more easily contained and thus might be easier to introduce first. The Conformists is a concept of characters more than anything, and I love those characters, but the more I think about them, the more I wonder if they have a specific story to tell as well. I have other concepts, one that the boys behind the Death Lurker Saga have in their court, others sprung from other prompts. Many of my favorite ideas come from prompts, actually. Don't let anyone tell you that you can't come up with something good just because someone asked you before you thought of it yourself. That's the story behind Lost, after all. In my earlier years, I wasn't quite as good at it as I would become, but I've really come to value the method.
But I'm still just a hack who isn't actually being published. I'm editing my first novel at the moment, woven from three acts written during successive NaNoWrMos. It's called The Cloak of Shrouded Men and I'm going the indy route, self-publishing. It's called taking fate into my own hands. And I was sure I was done the story, too, but I'm come up with a coda, which I may include in the volume, a most appropriate conclusion to the affair, much as I discovered a new beginning a few years ago.
And did I mention writing for Paperback Reader? Y'know, that's something I'm constantly struggling with. You may have come here after having read something I wrote, but you've got to understand, my experience with my writing is that very few people actually end up reading it. A decade ago, it would have been because I didn't show it to anyone. Now, though, now I just don't know. I do know that I've been writing a weekly column for nine months now, and I've not once gotten a response, beyond my colleages, from it. I'm constantly thinking of pitching the whole thing in. Why bother, right? Well, maybe because if I'd never written for Paperback, not a single review, not a single column, Ace'd never have asked me about those prompts, and you would've never come here. Strange kind of way, how things happen.
Well, things'll keep on happening, one way or another, and I will continue blogging away at the Monk, and I will add more friends at ComicSpace, and someone will read what I write, and I will be published, one way or another. I will tell my stories, and everything will sort of work out.
But yeah, you came here for The Matrix?
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
#137. Blogger Complaints, College Friends, Swearing
Stupid stupid "improvements"! I don't like stupid change! Blogger has for months now been pestering me about switching to the new "and improved" version of its service, and now that it's forced that change on me, I have only found continued misery with the service in the one area it desperately needed improving. What the hell is wrong with these people?!? Why can't they figure out that "copy and paste" would be a useful addition?!? I just lost the start of this post because I discovered that I was blogging in the wrong blog, because the new "dashboard" (the starting page for bloggers with more than one blog, as I do since I've been blogging Nano for three years) is worse than the original version. Is that really progress???
Fuck! Now you've done it. I don't believe I've ever sworn in this thing before. The Monk has never sworn! Look at yourselves! A monster! A monster!
Anyway, (and yeah, seriously, fuck you), I'd been typing about my friend Rich from the Mercyhurst days, how he recently made an announcement to his friends that he deleted his myspace account, and how it was through this announcement that I first learned he wrote poetry. I remarked how I didn't know this, and how little I knew the guy, even at college, since I was the guy, as I always am, who didn't outsize himself, and thus was more or less lost in the pack. Trust me, it was more elegant the first time. Anyway, Rich has a blog with these Uncle Fuckers (just go with me on this, because this may be the only time you hear me talk like this, all two of you who have ever read this blog, each of you fans of the lamentably cancelled Help Me Help You), which he said was going to be his backup for myspace, which he left and deleted himself from (why oh why do people do that, etc.), where he doesn't put his original poetry so much as My Favorite Poems. I think it's a neat idea. There was more previously, and I'd intended to put more before I realized what had happened, but I'm too peeved now to continue.
Instead, I will continue to lament stupid, stupid "progress." Yeah, we all know how awesome Google is, and how awesome it is that Google continues to add awesome new things to its repertoire, such as Gmail (which I continue to adore). But, goddamnit, why the fuck does Google think that everything it gets into its tiny little, information-packed head, is so goddamn important? If these improvements were so fantastic, they should have been automatic. Instead, everything I've noticed so far only sucks! How is that even possible???
Fight the power!
And fuck "layouts"! That seems to be the only thing they really added! Fuck'em!
*Ahem*
That will be all.
Fuck! Now you've done it. I don't believe I've ever sworn in this thing before. The Monk has never sworn! Look at yourselves! A monster! A monster!
Anyway, (and yeah, seriously, fuck you), I'd been typing about my friend Rich from the Mercyhurst days, how he recently made an announcement to his friends that he deleted his myspace account, and how it was through this announcement that I first learned he wrote poetry. I remarked how I didn't know this, and how little I knew the guy, even at college, since I was the guy, as I always am, who didn't outsize himself, and thus was more or less lost in the pack. Trust me, it was more elegant the first time. Anyway, Rich has a blog with these Uncle Fuckers (just go with me on this, because this may be the only time you hear me talk like this, all two of you who have ever read this blog, each of you fans of the lamentably cancelled Help Me Help You), which he said was going to be his backup for myspace, which he left and deleted himself from (why oh why do people do that, etc.), where he doesn't put his original poetry so much as My Favorite Poems. I think it's a neat idea. There was more previously, and I'd intended to put more before I realized what had happened, but I'm too peeved now to continue.
Instead, I will continue to lament stupid, stupid "progress." Yeah, we all know how awesome Google is, and how awesome it is that Google continues to add awesome new things to its repertoire, such as Gmail (which I continue to adore). But, goddamnit, why the fuck does Google think that everything it gets into its tiny little, information-packed head, is so goddamn important? If these improvements were so fantastic, they should have been automatic. Instead, everything I've noticed so far only sucks! How is that even possible???
Fight the power!
And fuck "layouts"! That seems to be the only thing they really added! Fuck'em!
*Ahem*
That will be all.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
#136. Cloak of Shrouded Men, Poetry, Wrestling
Is this really to be the first blog of the new year? Can I really say "new year" any more? Two months in! I'm so ashamed!
The biggest news is that I'm in the midst of editing my first novel, The Cloak of Shrouded Men, which is of course a collection of the three Colinaude tales written during successive Nanos. Funny thing is, late last year, probably last November (before I'd written the phrase in Cotton's War I would subsequently adopt for the whole saga), I asked a Magic 8-ball if the working title I had for the time would be what it was going to be known as, and the ball said no. I guess I soon found out why. Funny thing is, I'm still set on the self-publishing route, even though I now know that Bart Gerardi at Paperback has two of our regular contributors lined up for the site's upcoming publishing line. The reason is quite simple, and it's not to slight Bart. Hardly. He's gotten me writing weekly for a website, for the public. I haven't been able to say that, well, ever. In college, I wrote for the paper, but that took breaks every time the school did, and I invariably wrote about prompted material, not what was important to me. At Paperback, that's what I do every week. Granted, it hasn't gotten me an actual readership, but I have no idea of knowing how big Paperback's readership in general is. I see comparable sites, and see greater complexity, more writers, and a larger potential readership. Maybe Paperback isn't at that point yet, even if it's been around for a number of years (I know because the review archive says so, and I myself have been around for about a year now). Or maybe it is and I just don't know. I do know that of primary sources of communication were cut off because of spammers, and no solution has been made since, and that was months ago. In some ways, it seems the site has actually gone backward since I got there, after an initial, impressive boom.
Which is sad, but my perrenial struggles with whether or not I'll stay have nothing to do with that. Them's personal matters, personal demons.
I've also got an even stronger determination to see The Jingle Jangle (my collected edition of Ex Patriot and Waking the Sandman, two collections of poetry I've written about before) published than ever before. I want to believe that I'm as significant a poet as I've seemed in the past, and as I feel I should be. (Every poet should be significant. If they're not, they're not writing to an audience. That's poetry.)
This is potentially the last month I see the girl I've developed a working relationship with, a struggle that turned on the basis (to some degree) on a TV show. Circumstances have consistently betrayed my intentions to see where else it could go, but I hope we can end things on better terms. By the time she comes back to the States, I'll be moved on as well, and I still have no idea what I'm doing next. That accounts for the two ambitions I speak of above, the desire to make a stand about what I've been doing up to this point in my life. I'm entering a new chapter once again, and I want to say that what I've been doing has everything to do with that chapter. I want it to be about what I've done. Invariably, I've been building with every other chapter. I'm ready for Act II, so to speak.
In wrestling, I'm excited that WWE is getting people interested again, and I'm gratified that it's Smackdown leading the way, since I've been its champion for years, even during the lean time when everyone else was calling it, at best, the B show. Well, guess what, Vince was right. He can support two brands. Three, even. TNA couldn't do this, not when it can hardly support one. It's about creating a show, not just showing someone's personality, or skill sets. WWE has always done those. But they know how to tell a story, and that doesn't mean just the talking. In many ways, Monty Brown/Marcus Cor Von illustrates this best of all (or Kurt Angle, mind you, since he's basically brought WWE to TNA, which is something none of the other transplant, B level stars have been able to, including two time champ Christian Cage). Monty was a poser in TNA. He had his stock phrases (including one for the finisher WWE still refuses to name, even though it lives on at the back of his tights), and stock poses. And he was always supposed to be someone huge, even though he never quite got there. Marcus, in the first match I saw him competing for ECW, looked quite different. He wasn't Monty anymore. He looked completely different, not anything resembling a Goldberg or Lesnar. He looked a bit like an '80s wrestler. How odd! Strip a man of his pretensions, and you discover what you really have. Someone who hasn't quite learned the ring yet (which I say not the denegrate the '80s, but to suggest what I've gleaned from my own experience, that wrestling began to look more real around the time we learned it was fake, which in essense forced wrestlers to become more athletic).
I'll leave the Monk at that. And promise to write back sooner!
The biggest news is that I'm in the midst of editing my first novel, The Cloak of Shrouded Men, which is of course a collection of the three Colinaude tales written during successive Nanos. Funny thing is, late last year, probably last November (before I'd written the phrase in Cotton's War I would subsequently adopt for the whole saga), I asked a Magic 8-ball if the working title I had for the time would be what it was going to be known as, and the ball said no. I guess I soon found out why. Funny thing is, I'm still set on the self-publishing route, even though I now know that Bart Gerardi at Paperback has two of our regular contributors lined up for the site's upcoming publishing line. The reason is quite simple, and it's not to slight Bart. Hardly. He's gotten me writing weekly for a website, for the public. I haven't been able to say that, well, ever. In college, I wrote for the paper, but that took breaks every time the school did, and I invariably wrote about prompted material, not what was important to me. At Paperback, that's what I do every week. Granted, it hasn't gotten me an actual readership, but I have no idea of knowing how big Paperback's readership in general is. I see comparable sites, and see greater complexity, more writers, and a larger potential readership. Maybe Paperback isn't at that point yet, even if it's been around for a number of years (I know because the review archive says so, and I myself have been around for about a year now). Or maybe it is and I just don't know. I do know that of primary sources of communication were cut off because of spammers, and no solution has been made since, and that was months ago. In some ways, it seems the site has actually gone backward since I got there, after an initial, impressive boom.
Which is sad, but my perrenial struggles with whether or not I'll stay have nothing to do with that. Them's personal matters, personal demons.
I've also got an even stronger determination to see The Jingle Jangle (my collected edition of Ex Patriot and Waking the Sandman, two collections of poetry I've written about before) published than ever before. I want to believe that I'm as significant a poet as I've seemed in the past, and as I feel I should be. (Every poet should be significant. If they're not, they're not writing to an audience. That's poetry.)
This is potentially the last month I see the girl I've developed a working relationship with, a struggle that turned on the basis (to some degree) on a TV show. Circumstances have consistently betrayed my intentions to see where else it could go, but I hope we can end things on better terms. By the time she comes back to the States, I'll be moved on as well, and I still have no idea what I'm doing next. That accounts for the two ambitions I speak of above, the desire to make a stand about what I've been doing up to this point in my life. I'm entering a new chapter once again, and I want to say that what I've been doing has everything to do with that chapter. I want it to be about what I've done. Invariably, I've been building with every other chapter. I'm ready for Act II, so to speak.
In wrestling, I'm excited that WWE is getting people interested again, and I'm gratified that it's Smackdown leading the way, since I've been its champion for years, even during the lean time when everyone else was calling it, at best, the B show. Well, guess what, Vince was right. He can support two brands. Three, even. TNA couldn't do this, not when it can hardly support one. It's about creating a show, not just showing someone's personality, or skill sets. WWE has always done those. But they know how to tell a story, and that doesn't mean just the talking. In many ways, Monty Brown/Marcus Cor Von illustrates this best of all (or Kurt Angle, mind you, since he's basically brought WWE to TNA, which is something none of the other transplant, B level stars have been able to, including two time champ Christian Cage). Monty was a poser in TNA. He had his stock phrases (including one for the finisher WWE still refuses to name, even though it lives on at the back of his tights), and stock poses. And he was always supposed to be someone huge, even though he never quite got there. Marcus, in the first match I saw him competing for ECW, looked quite different. He wasn't Monty anymore. He looked completely different, not anything resembling a Goldberg or Lesnar. He looked a bit like an '80s wrestler. How odd! Strip a man of his pretensions, and you discover what you really have. Someone who hasn't quite learned the ring yet (which I say not the denegrate the '80s, but to suggest what I've gleaned from my own experience, that wrestling began to look more real around the time we learned it was fake, which in essense forced wrestlers to become more athletic).
I'll leave the Monk at that. And promise to write back sooner!
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
#135. The Cloak of Shrouded Men, TV, Blue Boy in Blue, Wrestling, Movies, Music, Books
Okay, so it's been a month, more or less, and I haven't put a word here in all that time. The last one I did was an image and literally one word! In my defense, I wrote my afterNaNo speech, as it were, over at Paperback Reader, in my column the Quarter Bin. A bunch has happened since then. I decided on a new title for the collected Colinaude tale, The Cloak of Shrouded Men, and although Bart Gerardi, the head cheese at Paperback, has once already offered to publish this stuff, I'm still eying the indy route, and an attractive package available that would give me one free copy but a bounty in return. Help Me Help You, that sitcom people kept writing about here, ended up on the bubble. I don't know how much longer it'll be around, which sucks. I wrote a defense of it to a colleague at Paperback (that site again!), comparing it to Arrested Development, The Office, and My Name is Earl, which I really believe. It's an absolute gem I would love to stick around for years.
I've just responded to another comment left here by adapting a poem on another blog. I haven't done poetry here in years, which either means they've been doing their research or they're a really lucky and pleasant spammer. Here's something for the old school:
Blue Boy in Blue
Blue Boy is blue
is blue
is blue
Blue Boy is blue
because his secret is out
is out
is out
Blue Boy is blue
because those who
read his poem know
he's not a baby
but is a dog
is a dog
is a dog
Blue Boy is a poem
is a poem
is a poem
that I've thought about recently
and so it's not so hard to write about again
Blue Boy bubbled just beneath the surface
Blue Boy was a bit of nonsense
just a little bit of fun,
and now he's fun again,
or so I hope
I wish I had a monkey
had a monkey
had a monkey
had a monkey
which is a thought
that has nothing at all to do
with the rest of this piece!
But,
that's just what you get
when you visit with
Blue Boy in Blue!
In WWE, Batista is champion again on Smackdown, which people are apparently watching and actually enjoying. The joke on them is that they've been ignoring everything they seem to be enjoying for years now. That's irony. One of the major thoughts from 2006, however, is the amount of interbrand action there's been, how often stars from one show would appear on another. And even though this was so evident, the remarkable thing was that each brand, be they Raw, Smackdown, or ECW, still remained distinctly their own. Their signature stars rarely crossed over, from DX to Ken Kennedy to C.M. Punk (though this is been fudged from time to time, too). I used to write a lot about wrestling here (I used to do a lot different stuff before that, too), and maybe next year, that will happen again. But for now, and because this may be my final post of the year, we're going to leave the ring behind and return to other thoughts.
By next Monday, I'll have seen roughly 40 movies in the theater and amassed god only knows how many DVDs in 2006 alone. That's a lot of movies. I'm writing about my favorite comics from the year at Paperback (there I go again!), but I have no specific place to talk movies, books, or music. Much of my favorite music from the year came from 2005, or earlier. I was still crazy over Oasis (Don't Believe the Truth), Coldplay (X&Y), and Hootie & the Blowfish (Looking for Lucky). My new job and old helped make John Mayer's Continuum perhaps the most memorable disc of this year. I grew addicted to Grey's Anatomy, and very nearly came into possession of the holy grail of Superman DVDs (a clue: it came in a silver tin). I read a few classics, and oggled perhaps a new one (Thomas Pynchon's Against the Day), and came closer than ever to Jeff Smith's Bone: One Volume Edition (I may have that by the end of next month!). It was a terrible year and a good year, a productive year and a frustrating year. It was probably something I'll need for whatever awaits me, because the future is going to be wide open very soon.
And that's all I'm going to write for now.
I've just responded to another comment left here by adapting a poem on another blog. I haven't done poetry here in years, which either means they've been doing their research or they're a really lucky and pleasant spammer. Here's something for the old school:
Blue Boy in Blue
Blue Boy is blue
is blue
is blue
Blue Boy is blue
because his secret is out
is out
is out
Blue Boy is blue
because those who
read his poem know
he's not a baby
but is a dog
is a dog
is a dog
Blue Boy is a poem
is a poem
is a poem
that I've thought about recently
and so it's not so hard to write about again
Blue Boy bubbled just beneath the surface
Blue Boy was a bit of nonsense
just a little bit of fun,
and now he's fun again,
or so I hope
I wish I had a monkey
had a monkey
had a monkey
had a monkey
which is a thought
that has nothing at all to do
with the rest of this piece!
But,
that's just what you get
when you visit with
Blue Boy in Blue!
In WWE, Batista is champion again on Smackdown, which people are apparently watching and actually enjoying. The joke on them is that they've been ignoring everything they seem to be enjoying for years now. That's irony. One of the major thoughts from 2006, however, is the amount of interbrand action there's been, how often stars from one show would appear on another. And even though this was so evident, the remarkable thing was that each brand, be they Raw, Smackdown, or ECW, still remained distinctly their own. Their signature stars rarely crossed over, from DX to Ken Kennedy to C.M. Punk (though this is been fudged from time to time, too). I used to write a lot about wrestling here (I used to do a lot different stuff before that, too), and maybe next year, that will happen again. But for now, and because this may be my final post of the year, we're going to leave the ring behind and return to other thoughts.
By next Monday, I'll have seen roughly 40 movies in the theater and amassed god only knows how many DVDs in 2006 alone. That's a lot of movies. I'm writing about my favorite comics from the year at Paperback (there I go again!), but I have no specific place to talk movies, books, or music. Much of my favorite music from the year came from 2005, or earlier. I was still crazy over Oasis (Don't Believe the Truth), Coldplay (X&Y), and Hootie & the Blowfish (Looking for Lucky). My new job and old helped make John Mayer's Continuum perhaps the most memorable disc of this year. I grew addicted to Grey's Anatomy, and very nearly came into possession of the holy grail of Superman DVDs (a clue: it came in a silver tin). I read a few classics, and oggled perhaps a new one (Thomas Pynchon's Against the Day), and came closer than ever to Jeff Smith's Bone: One Volume Edition (I may have that by the end of next month!). It was a terrible year and a good year, a productive year and a frustrating year. It was probably something I'll need for whatever awaits me, because the future is going to be wide open very soon.
And that's all I'm going to write for now.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Sunday, November 05, 2006
#133. Help Me Help You Gains Me Comments, Cotton's War, A.J. Styles
Apparently, mentioning Help Me Help You is a hot ticket. I got three responses (nonspam! I think!) to the last entry because of it. Does that mean I have to stop using the term Theoretical Reader? Really? Anyway, yeah, the show is great. So, any fans of Becker while I'm at it?
And for the record, five days in I've made three entries for the 2006 NaNovel, Cotton's War, with 9,009 words in the bank (a few hundred ahead of pace), which means my new philosophy, developed last year out of necessity, is at the moment working. Write more than just 1,667 words a day? Crazy talk! But...it works! For now. I still have time to get cocky. This works because I've had freakish amounts of me-time, on Friday and now today. Time will tell what it's like when I'm actually competing against my schedule, rather than working with it. Plus, I found out that there're Burlingtonians converging on the place I work at to work on this stuff. Wonky, I tell you, wonky.
Hey, how much carry-over do you think exists between Help Me Help You and wrestling fans?...Caught some TNA this Thursday, saw A.J. Styles in action again (capturing his Nth X title), after having given up a few weeks ago on a DVD bout between him and archrival Christopher Daniels. Just thought I'd mention...
And for the record, five days in I've made three entries for the 2006 NaNovel, Cotton's War, with 9,009 words in the bank (a few hundred ahead of pace), which means my new philosophy, developed last year out of necessity, is at the moment working. Write more than just 1,667 words a day? Crazy talk! But...it works! For now. I still have time to get cocky. This works because I've had freakish amounts of me-time, on Friday and now today. Time will tell what it's like when I'm actually competing against my schedule, rather than working with it. Plus, I found out that there're Burlingtonians converging on the place I work at to work on this stuff. Wonky, I tell you, wonky.
Hey, how much carry-over do you think exists between Help Me Help You and wrestling fans?...Caught some TNA this Thursday, saw A.J. Styles in action again (capturing his Nth X title), after having given up a few weeks ago on a DVD bout between him and archrival Christopher Daniels. Just thought I'd mention...
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
#132. Help Me Help You
Did I forget to mention Help Me Help You among the new shows I'm watching? Really? Because it's a sitcom worth watching on ABC. Remember the last time someone said that? Anyone?
NaNo starts today!
NaNo starts today!
Thursday, October 26, 2006
#131. Books, TV, Kurt Angle, Cotton's War
Okay, so I went and skipped a month. So sue me. Unless there are actual legal grounds for doing that for such a thing. Then don't. Please. I'm back now anyway, right? The last month wasn't so interesting, only filled, really, with much angst concerning new jobs and such. I finally finished Dostoyevsky's Brothers Karamazov, and have since read through Clifford Chase's Winkie, and although on the surface it's about a teddy bear being accused of terrorism, it's not really so different. I swear. The new TV season has me watching some old favorites (Lost, Prison Break, Survivor, Grey's Anatomy, The Office, My Name is Earl) as well as breaking in a few new ones (The Nine, 30 Rock, 20 Good Years, and much hope for Day Break). And next month is National Novel Writing Month.
My effort will be found, as always, in a separate blog, this year with a URL something like this. It will indeed be entitled "Cotton's War," as I've been speculating all this time (though, and even though I've already created the page, I may remind the ever-faithful Theoretical Reader that the first attempt was made after a last-minute concept swtich). More on this as I progress.
Kurt Angle had already made the leap to TNA when last I wrote, and amazingly, he still has not competed in their six-sided ring. Maybe this is a better deal than everyone's fretting. It was WWE that had him wrestling so much, from Raw to Smackdown to ECW in just the last ten months alone, always in that span, despite a few months WWE itself had him take it easy, in high-profile, ongoing commitments. True, his first TNA match is set against Samoa Joe, surely no lightweight in the ring, but the regular schedule alone company competitors is already less than half as demanding as something Angle might have expected from his old company. And what's more, for the first time (sorry Rhyno, sorry Dudleys, sorry Christian, sorry, even, Sting and Scott Steiner), TNA has acquired someone that will make me actually want to tune in to see in his new environment. If all goes right, this one move is going to open the whole roster. Past Joe, I want to see Angle take on A.J. Styles, or Petey Williams (Petey, once a toast of the town, now is mostly an exhibitionist, and not in the Kelly Kelly sense, as are most of the young stars worth following, including Elix Skipper, Sonjay Dutt, and Ron Killings). If the company can start focusing more on good matches and not just crazy spots, which Kurt has always been known for, everything it already has might finally shine through, past some of the more lameduck promoting it's done over its existence. Abyss, sorry, dude, no matter how much they like you in the back, you're a prime example of what's wrong with the company. Your gimmick, as a monstrous Mankind, was over the day you started it. I don't care what you look like under that mask. Lose it. You're no Undertaker. You're not even Kane. And you want to dispel the myth of Jeff Jarrett, put him in a match with someone who can both wrestle and combat some of his more dubious impulses.
Well, that'll just about be it for now. Will talk more later. :)
My effort will be found, as always, in a separate blog, this year with a URL something like this. It will indeed be entitled "Cotton's War," as I've been speculating all this time (though, and even though I've already created the page, I may remind the ever-faithful Theoretical Reader that the first attempt was made after a last-minute concept swtich). More on this as I progress.
Kurt Angle had already made the leap to TNA when last I wrote, and amazingly, he still has not competed in their six-sided ring. Maybe this is a better deal than everyone's fretting. It was WWE that had him wrestling so much, from Raw to Smackdown to ECW in just the last ten months alone, always in that span, despite a few months WWE itself had him take it easy, in high-profile, ongoing commitments. True, his first TNA match is set against Samoa Joe, surely no lightweight in the ring, but the regular schedule alone company competitors is already less than half as demanding as something Angle might have expected from his old company. And what's more, for the first time (sorry Rhyno, sorry Dudleys, sorry Christian, sorry, even, Sting and Scott Steiner), TNA has acquired someone that will make me actually want to tune in to see in his new environment. If all goes right, this one move is going to open the whole roster. Past Joe, I want to see Angle take on A.J. Styles, or Petey Williams (Petey, once a toast of the town, now is mostly an exhibitionist, and not in the Kelly Kelly sense, as are most of the young stars worth following, including Elix Skipper, Sonjay Dutt, and Ron Killings). If the company can start focusing more on good matches and not just crazy spots, which Kurt has always been known for, everything it already has might finally shine through, past some of the more lameduck promoting it's done over its existence. Abyss, sorry, dude, no matter how much they like you in the back, you're a prime example of what's wrong with the company. Your gimmick, as a monstrous Mankind, was over the day you started it. I don't care what you look like under that mask. Lose it. You're no Undertaker. You're not even Kane. And you want to dispel the myth of Jeff Jarrett, put him in a match with someone who can both wrestle and combat some of his more dubious impulses.
Well, that'll just about be it for now. Will talk more later. :)
Sunday, September 24, 2006
#130. Hired by Borders, Star Trek 40th Anniversary, Dostoevsky, TV, Music, Movies, Business Cards
Okay, so I'm back for a rare double-whammy. Barnes & Noble has a wicked sale going on right now (at my local store, anyway, and I should add that I was just hired by the local-and-soon opening Borders, a direct competitor), 3 books for $9.99. I just couldn't resist. I should add that the three books in question are limited in scope and do not include every book in the store (they may be emptied, otherwise). They're in the entrance, and have big purple dots stickered on them. I came back for purchases after marking my targets and getting hired by Borders (terrible, ain't it?), making one change (a bio on historical monsters for a bio on St. Paul...no big dif, right?). Among the rest are a T.C. Boyle read, a Freud/Einstein postulation, a treatise on the neuroses of writers, and a collection of Star Trek fiction (I pretty much gave up on that stuff years ago, but...I'm not aversed to return engagements). I got six books. I'm pretty sure I couldn't have cobbled together another trio. Fairly certain. Anyhoo...
I'm in the midst of writing my contribution to Star Trek's fortieth anniversary, to continue a line. Pertinent links can be found to the right, for those interested. Having found on the Internet (I never go there!) a copy of Gene Roddenberry's original proposition, I decided early in the year that I would riff on his initial concepts, adding what I could along the way but preserving the concepts that would become the stuff of modern myth. The story is called, as Gene began, "The Next Cage," and it will have to be wrapped in time for November. Where does the time go! Soon I'll be starting Colinaude's final adventure, "Cotton's War." Can you believe it? Are you ready? (Sorry, that last line's actually a wrestling reference. I thought I'd gotten most of that out earlier.)
I'm still dogging away at Dostoyevsky. More than a month ago, I quit my primary job, and have been adjusting to life at the movie theater (AMC! home of the new Clips Picks!) I started at a month after that job. This week it became obvious just how stupid delaying getting steadier employment was, and as luck had it, Borders obliged rather obligingly. If I'd been employed this quickly last year, who knows what I'd be doing right now? I certainly wouldn't be typing this right now. For a number of reasons. Anyway, The Brothers Karamazov is everything John Locke said it would be, in a roundabout way. Yeah, I'm a Losthead, right through last season, which I'm currently reviewing via DVD. I've got Prison Break on the same docket. This fall season seems destined to make another fan of my with one show or another, whether it be Heroes, Six Degrees, The Nine, or even Kidnapped, which is to say nothing of the lately-uncommonly strong slate of sitcoms coming round. I've also become quite a fan of Grey's Anatomy lately, thanks in part to a friend and coworker (and manager) at the theater. She's also trying to get me into Justin Timberlake. We'll see about that. She'll be off to Poland for six month come January. I wonder how she'll come back. There's another friend and coworker there I recently debated martyrs with. I haven't told her I named a character the Burka Martyr in a comic book concept, Blur, that I've been developing, after that discussion. (I told her martyrs were silly. She had a good laugh about it.) Another form coworker, supervisor, and current friend (of whom I've spoke here before, trust me) will be back in five weeks. I don't know where any of this is headed. I like that. Maybe they do, too. Who knows?
Recent albums I absolutely adore include Coldplay's X&Y, Oasis' Don't Believe the Truth, Hootie & the Blowfish's Looking for Lucky (and their even more recent Live from Charleston, in part because I saw them live for the first time a month before its release, the same day I quit that job), U2's How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, and a bunch others. But the first two I've particularly obsessed over. I also love the All-American Rejects. WWE coopted "Move Along" for its Diva Search this year (dang! another wresling reference!), but that does little to diminish my love for that video. I also love OK Go's treadmill video (it's actually another recent example of something I didn't like, really didn't like first sight, but ended up loving afterward, including U2's "Beautiful Day video, in fact). I'm always trying to broaden my horizons. Hooking up with a Tower Records benefits membership netted me a subscription to Paste magazine, and that led me to Beirut. The music artist, not the city.
This summer some of my favorite films were The Da Vinci Code, The Break Up, Superman Returns, Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest, Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, and, wait for it, Stick It. The last is now out on DVD. It's spunk is its hook. Don't dismiss a hidden treasure, folks. And don't dismiss films like United 93 and World Trade Center, either. They're pain worth living through (but I've written quite a bit about that recently at Paperback Reader in the Quarter Bin). And don't dismiss M:I:III just because you, personally, think Tom Cruise is a nutjob.
Speaking of Paperback Reader, the proprietor Bart Gerardi recently shipped me some marketing material which included business cards. I have business cards now. Yeah, I don't make any money off of my work there, but, business cards!!! Somehow, that makes it seem all the more official. Darn reader reaction!!! But reader reaction is good, too.
I'm waiting to hear back from Visionary Comics. I think I've written about that here, right? Anyway, Theoretical Reader, know that if I hear good word from them, that the aforementioned Blur is joining an already extensive list of material I'd be more than happy to start actually working on for a publisher. Oy, as if creative energy could be a curse...That'll be all I pretend burden on you today, I swear...
I'm in the midst of writing my contribution to Star Trek's fortieth anniversary, to continue a line. Pertinent links can be found to the right, for those interested. Having found on the Internet (I never go there!) a copy of Gene Roddenberry's original proposition, I decided early in the year that I would riff on his initial concepts, adding what I could along the way but preserving the concepts that would become the stuff of modern myth. The story is called, as Gene began, "The Next Cage," and it will have to be wrapped in time for November. Where does the time go! Soon I'll be starting Colinaude's final adventure, "Cotton's War." Can you believe it? Are you ready? (Sorry, that last line's actually a wrestling reference. I thought I'd gotten most of that out earlier.)
I'm still dogging away at Dostoyevsky. More than a month ago, I quit my primary job, and have been adjusting to life at the movie theater (AMC! home of the new Clips Picks!) I started at a month after that job. This week it became obvious just how stupid delaying getting steadier employment was, and as luck had it, Borders obliged rather obligingly. If I'd been employed this quickly last year, who knows what I'd be doing right now? I certainly wouldn't be typing this right now. For a number of reasons. Anyway, The Brothers Karamazov is everything John Locke said it would be, in a roundabout way. Yeah, I'm a Losthead, right through last season, which I'm currently reviewing via DVD. I've got Prison Break on the same docket. This fall season seems destined to make another fan of my with one show or another, whether it be Heroes, Six Degrees, The Nine, or even Kidnapped, which is to say nothing of the lately-uncommonly strong slate of sitcoms coming round. I've also become quite a fan of Grey's Anatomy lately, thanks in part to a friend and coworker (and manager) at the theater. She's also trying to get me into Justin Timberlake. We'll see about that. She'll be off to Poland for six month come January. I wonder how she'll come back. There's another friend and coworker there I recently debated martyrs with. I haven't told her I named a character the Burka Martyr in a comic book concept, Blur, that I've been developing, after that discussion. (I told her martyrs were silly. She had a good laugh about it.) Another form coworker, supervisor, and current friend (of whom I've spoke here before, trust me) will be back in five weeks. I don't know where any of this is headed. I like that. Maybe they do, too. Who knows?
Recent albums I absolutely adore include Coldplay's X&Y, Oasis' Don't Believe the Truth, Hootie & the Blowfish's Looking for Lucky (and their even more recent Live from Charleston, in part because I saw them live for the first time a month before its release, the same day I quit that job), U2's How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, and a bunch others. But the first two I've particularly obsessed over. I also love the All-American Rejects. WWE coopted "Move Along" for its Diva Search this year (dang! another wresling reference!), but that does little to diminish my love for that video. I also love OK Go's treadmill video (it's actually another recent example of something I didn't like, really didn't like first sight, but ended up loving afterward, including U2's "Beautiful Day video, in fact). I'm always trying to broaden my horizons. Hooking up with a Tower Records benefits membership netted me a subscription to Paste magazine, and that led me to Beirut. The music artist, not the city.
This summer some of my favorite films were The Da Vinci Code, The Break Up, Superman Returns, Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest, Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, and, wait for it, Stick It. The last is now out on DVD. It's spunk is its hook. Don't dismiss a hidden treasure, folks. And don't dismiss films like United 93 and World Trade Center, either. They're pain worth living through (but I've written quite a bit about that recently at Paperback Reader in the Quarter Bin). And don't dismiss M:I:III just because you, personally, think Tom Cruise is a nutjob.
Speaking of Paperback Reader, the proprietor Bart Gerardi recently shipped me some marketing material which included business cards. I have business cards now. Yeah, I don't make any money off of my work there, but, business cards!!! Somehow, that makes it seem all the more official. Darn reader reaction!!! But reader reaction is good, too.
I'm waiting to hear back from Visionary Comics. I think I've written about that here, right? Anyway, Theoretical Reader, know that if I hear good word from them, that the aforementioned Blur is joining an already extensive list of material I'd be more than happy to start actually working on for a publisher. Oy, as if creative energy could be a curse...That'll be all I pretend burden on you today, I swear...
#129. PWI 500 2006
I finally got a copy of the eagerly-awaited PWI 500, the annual ranking from Pro Wrestling Illustrated of, roughly speaking, the top 500 wrestlers in the last grading period (in this case, August 2005 to July 2006). As far as I'm concerned, it's easily their best ranking in years (though not without controversy, as their own editorial about a sudden explosion of foreign market - i.e. Mexican and Japanese - stars details; how these competitors suddenly rate isn't properly justified, though the actual write-up has never been a key selling point of the list). Gone are such questionable #1 choices as Dean Malenko (1997) and Rob Van Dam (2002), or suspect judgment calls (Batista over John Cena last year, Chris Benoit over Eddie Guerrero in 2004). There was only one choice this year, even though the editors for months had been trying to build a case for another star they thankfully didn't go with, and didn't even rank second.
Ladies and gentlemen? This year was John Cena's. And right behind him, rightfully, is Kurt Angle in what might be his last-ever appearance (if he actually takes this retirement of his seriously so he doesn't end up crippled in old age, although as an update on Monday, it was announced at TNA's No Surrender last night that he'd joined that promotion). Jeff Jarrett (for the first time making an appearance in it for his TNA efforts) rounds out a top ten that also includes familiar faces in Edge (#3, Cena's chief rival after Angle in the year analyzed), Rey Mysterio (#6), Shawn Michaels (#9, who probably takes the place of a worthier, in terms of actual accomplishments, star, though his work still merits this surprise entry), Brock Lesnar (#7, another surprise, for an IWGP title reign that was mostly unremarkable even by PWI's estimation) and Samoa Joe (#4, hailed by PWI as the first TNA wrestler to appear solo on the cover of...PWI). In addition, there's Mistico (#5) and Kenta Kobashi (#8) from the international scene, and unlike years past, their write-ups actually justify their positioning as something other than PWI attempting to make nice with non-US-soil based promotions.
Some of the same problems plague the ranking. The first half of the grading period (which would have bore out the cases for Guerrero and Cena in the personally contested rankings already noted) still seems conveniently overlooked when spotting certain stars (even Cena, though his first half was nothing to sneeze at), and write-ups, even from nationally exposed stars, seem only dimly informed at best, like they've been typed from notes alone (and this is nothing about the elipses: Theatoretical Readers will note how I often use them myself). In addition, as always, there are mistakes a simple proofreader would have noticed, to add to the professional read of a compiling seeking journalistic pedigree. They want to be known as an authority, they should act like one.
That being said, I found this year's 500 to be the best in years. The choices were made without bias (Cena is not known as an unquestioned favorite, after all), and the decision to widen the perspective, even if not executed properly, was a good one. The long wait was definitely rewarded, and in truth, I'm only in the early three-hundreds as I read through (yes, faithful editors, I'm one of the readers who actually read through, as they've lamented about in the past, though this year, aside from the Stu Saks note that opens every issue, not a single column was devoted to the 500, an omission that's particularly glaring, as if everyone really was foused on other things this year, like last issue's dubious grading cards, and that's how it was done right for a change).
One more gripe: the conspicuous taboo of the late Eddie Guerrero. He should have warranted significant mentions in the write-ups for two prominent stars, Rey Mysterio and Batista, and yet all he got was the kind of shout-out in Rey's that's had so many fans rankled this year. Eddie wrestled for three months of the grading period. He finished an epic feud with Rey (winning the final match, but losing a pivotal one before that, which of course did not factor into Rey's Top Five Moments of the Year, on a basis in what I've already noted, a feud that launched Rey to the position where he could achieve a rank of #6), and was Batista's first opponent after two extended feuds and in fact last true challenger before Dave surrendered the World title in January (and the story that surrounded this card easily ranks in Batista's top three most memorable cards, along with his exit from Evolution and the hibernating grudge with Mark Henry). To have done this was even more egregious of PWI than denying Eddie the number one spot in 2004. It did nothing to respect a recently departed and much loved star. It actually disrespected Eddie. If he hadn't died, there's every reason to believe that he was, at the very least, poised for the kind of year Kurt Angle enjoyed. Understand what I mean? So, bad on you, PWI.
Maybe I should also stress that, whatever problems I inevitably have with these things, the PWI 500 has been a ranking I've eagerly anticipated for years. I think my first encounter with it in 1995, Kevin Nash's year, and I've devoured nearly every one of them since 1998 (I particularly lament missing 2000 and 2001, when Triple H and Kurt Angle, respectively, topped the ranks, deservedly). I always appreciate the effort. It can't be easy to do this when there's no such coverage of the whole scene, as there is for nearly every other sport, and certainly not the respect wrestlers earn every single night. PWI does its part (and maybe it's time to drop the kayfabe, guys), and this year made strides to correct past errors, making it that much easier for the day wrestling finally does get its due. It's not a fad, not a silly game of men in tights. I believe that this is the era we're going to discover this. The fans will wait for another "boom period." I hope we finally get over the need for such things.
I'll be back for nonwrestling thoughts, too, I swear.
Ladies and gentlemen? This year was John Cena's. And right behind him, rightfully, is Kurt Angle in what might be his last-ever appearance (if he actually takes this retirement of his seriously so he doesn't end up crippled in old age, although as an update on Monday, it was announced at TNA's No Surrender last night that he'd joined that promotion). Jeff Jarrett (for the first time making an appearance in it for his TNA efforts) rounds out a top ten that also includes familiar faces in Edge (#3, Cena's chief rival after Angle in the year analyzed), Rey Mysterio (#6), Shawn Michaels (#9, who probably takes the place of a worthier, in terms of actual accomplishments, star, though his work still merits this surprise entry), Brock Lesnar (#7, another surprise, for an IWGP title reign that was mostly unremarkable even by PWI's estimation) and Samoa Joe (#4, hailed by PWI as the first TNA wrestler to appear solo on the cover of...PWI). In addition, there's Mistico (#5) and Kenta Kobashi (#8) from the international scene, and unlike years past, their write-ups actually justify their positioning as something other than PWI attempting to make nice with non-US-soil based promotions.
Some of the same problems plague the ranking. The first half of the grading period (which would have bore out the cases for Guerrero and Cena in the personally contested rankings already noted) still seems conveniently overlooked when spotting certain stars (even Cena, though his first half was nothing to sneeze at), and write-ups, even from nationally exposed stars, seem only dimly informed at best, like they've been typed from notes alone (and this is nothing about the elipses: Theatoretical Readers will note how I often use them myself). In addition, as always, there are mistakes a simple proofreader would have noticed, to add to the professional read of a compiling seeking journalistic pedigree. They want to be known as an authority, they should act like one.
That being said, I found this year's 500 to be the best in years. The choices were made without bias (Cena is not known as an unquestioned favorite, after all), and the decision to widen the perspective, even if not executed properly, was a good one. The long wait was definitely rewarded, and in truth, I'm only in the early three-hundreds as I read through (yes, faithful editors, I'm one of the readers who actually read through, as they've lamented about in the past, though this year, aside from the Stu Saks note that opens every issue, not a single column was devoted to the 500, an omission that's particularly glaring, as if everyone really was foused on other things this year, like last issue's dubious grading cards, and that's how it was done right for a change).
One more gripe: the conspicuous taboo of the late Eddie Guerrero. He should have warranted significant mentions in the write-ups for two prominent stars, Rey Mysterio and Batista, and yet all he got was the kind of shout-out in Rey's that's had so many fans rankled this year. Eddie wrestled for three months of the grading period. He finished an epic feud with Rey (winning the final match, but losing a pivotal one before that, which of course did not factor into Rey's Top Five Moments of the Year, on a basis in what I've already noted, a feud that launched Rey to the position where he could achieve a rank of #6), and was Batista's first opponent after two extended feuds and in fact last true challenger before Dave surrendered the World title in January (and the story that surrounded this card easily ranks in Batista's top three most memorable cards, along with his exit from Evolution and the hibernating grudge with Mark Henry). To have done this was even more egregious of PWI than denying Eddie the number one spot in 2004. It did nothing to respect a recently departed and much loved star. It actually disrespected Eddie. If he hadn't died, there's every reason to believe that he was, at the very least, poised for the kind of year Kurt Angle enjoyed. Understand what I mean? So, bad on you, PWI.
Maybe I should also stress that, whatever problems I inevitably have with these things, the PWI 500 has been a ranking I've eagerly anticipated for years. I think my first encounter with it in 1995, Kevin Nash's year, and I've devoured nearly every one of them since 1998 (I particularly lament missing 2000 and 2001, when Triple H and Kurt Angle, respectively, topped the ranks, deservedly). I always appreciate the effort. It can't be easy to do this when there's no such coverage of the whole scene, as there is for nearly every other sport, and certainly not the respect wrestlers earn every single night. PWI does its part (and maybe it's time to drop the kayfabe, guys), and this year made strides to correct past errors, making it that much easier for the day wrestling finally does get its due. It's not a fad, not a silly game of men in tights. I believe that this is the era we're going to discover this. The fans will wait for another "boom period." I hope we finally get over the need for such things.
I'll be back for nonwrestling thoughts, too, I swear.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
#128. Poetry, Shelton Benjamin
Since the last entry, I've compiled another poetry collection, Waking the Sandman, which is somewhat slimmer than Ex Patriot yet no less a vision unto itself, which, as yet, is what I seem to be going for. Bear in mind, both collections are from material written in the last year and a half, meaning I've got a backlog of poetry that could fill collections of considerably larger proportions, if I were to come into such a position. Two poems at least can be found right here at the Monk, for those of you Theoretical Readers with a bit of ambition in you. Sandman includes poems written within a span of months, which roughly corresponds to the development of the keynote (but not eponymous) poem from E P. I've never felt as much excitement about my own work, seeing it collected like that. Now if I could only see it published, too...
In the wrestling vein, I was recently thinking how beneficial it would be to move Shelton Benjamin back to Smackdown. He's seemingly run his course on Raw, and the blue brand could always use a fresh infusion of talent, what with all the injuries, (not that new talent like Kennedy, Lashley, Birchall, and possibly MVP aren't proving some valuable worth), a continuing drain on headliners (JBL retiring, Rey Misterio taking a possible six month break), and suspect ongoing worth of others (Undertaker and his part-time schedule, the question mark of Batista, whose continued worth suddenly seems up in the air). No, Shelton ain't a razzle-dazzle star, but he knows how to get it done in the ring, and can pull off the highlight moves (two Money in the Bank showstoppers, for instance) with the best of them. Put him on a show where he won't be lost in the pack. And if you really want to, add Charlie Haas and reunit the World's Greatest Tag Team.
Really? Haas should have made a bigger splash on his return than he did, if not in his card against Benjamin, which went nowhere quickly, then in his card against Viscera (somehow, he ended up with him). That's not going to go anywhere, and it seems less than likely that he's going to find much luck otherwise, so why not bring the band back together, at least in the shortrun? Can you imagine the kind of match you could have been TWGTT and London & Kendrick? And when that's played it's course, Haas-Benjamin could have another go of it, and then you could have both competing as singles again. Only, instead of trying to have them on separate brands (it just didn't work last time), see what they're like on the same one. They could compete, right? Give them heat together, but apart from each other. You don't always have to wrestle to have a feud going. It'd be a game of oneupsmanship.
Well, a guy can dream, anyway...Meanwhile, Carlito is rewarded with a card against Randy Orton. They're both winners.
In the wrestling vein, I was recently thinking how beneficial it would be to move Shelton Benjamin back to Smackdown. He's seemingly run his course on Raw, and the blue brand could always use a fresh infusion of talent, what with all the injuries, (not that new talent like Kennedy, Lashley, Birchall, and possibly MVP aren't proving some valuable worth), a continuing drain on headliners (JBL retiring, Rey Misterio taking a possible six month break), and suspect ongoing worth of others (Undertaker and his part-time schedule, the question mark of Batista, whose continued worth suddenly seems up in the air). No, Shelton ain't a razzle-dazzle star, but he knows how to get it done in the ring, and can pull off the highlight moves (two Money in the Bank showstoppers, for instance) with the best of them. Put him on a show where he won't be lost in the pack. And if you really want to, add Charlie Haas and reunit the World's Greatest Tag Team.
Really? Haas should have made a bigger splash on his return than he did, if not in his card against Benjamin, which went nowhere quickly, then in his card against Viscera (somehow, he ended up with him). That's not going to go anywhere, and it seems less than likely that he's going to find much luck otherwise, so why not bring the band back together, at least in the shortrun? Can you imagine the kind of match you could have been TWGTT and London & Kendrick? And when that's played it's course, Haas-Benjamin could have another go of it, and then you could have both competing as singles again. Only, instead of trying to have them on separate brands (it just didn't work last time), see what they're like on the same one. They could compete, right? Give them heat together, but apart from each other. You don't always have to wrestle to have a feud going. It'd be a game of oneupsmanship.
Well, a guy can dream, anyway...Meanwhile, Carlito is rewarded with a card against Randy Orton. They're both winners.
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