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Thought you guys might be interested in hearing what the Ultimate Warrior says about Gear and other drugs. A good read.
s.t.
Hello warriors. Again, great emails...
On the road, so a short, recreational post today getting at a bit of ‘rassling news that's around...
Well now, it’s getting harder to be surprised. “Who’s next?” has less to do with that unprincipled sellout Goldberg the WWE is hanging its pragmatic hopes on than it does with who’s next in taking their last breath.
I got a ton of requests to comment on the deaths of Elizabeth and Curt Henning. Both times I heard the news I did some looking around. Lot of sorry, phony despondency is what I found. Iron stomach that I have, by the time I quit scouting the polluted wrestling-related internet, it had me nauseous. There are parts of the internet that really are just a gob of unctuous patheticness. All the little gossipy sites and their sprinkly, irritating pop-up adds -- To laugh is to puke. Do these people have any serious interests? Like, having a life outside their 100 sq. ft bedrooms?
The best worm-eaten line I read was something Road Warrior Animal said. Looking forward to his 4th or 5th serving of McMahon poop-pie after toughly swearing each successive time Hawk and he would never be back, Animal said he was “glad morals are coming back into the business.” Earth to Ani...ah, forget it. Whoever is looking for a serious, Starship Enterprise hook-up needs to get with Animal because he’s got to be smoking or injecting the best stuff there is -- that line is simply from another friggin’ planet.
Morals are coming back? He must be confusing PAX with WWE to ease his shame about bowing and bending over at the altar of McMahon...again...again...and again. Hey Joe, don't feel too bad, it's only begging. Since when were morals synonymous with born-agains (Hawk! and him? born-again) behaving like hypocrites? Here we go one more time -- a born-again's piety being used as an excuse instead of an empowerment. Born-agains who don't should be outraged. Where's Pastor Michaels when you need him? Oh, that's right he's one of their ilk, too. I mean, even Bret Hart, a guy who recently paid a very close to visit to the Almighty, doesn't believe Michaels has truly seen the light, ergo, doesn't believe Michaels -- what more evidence do we need to have? If Bret thinks so, who are we to disagree? That would be like arguing with God, wouldn't it? You experts figure it out...
A few words about the death of Elizabeth.
I knew the Elizabeth the whole world knew -- she was Randy’s wife. Few talent -- if that many -- ever got closer to her than that while they were married. Randy was very protective of her and did not allow a line leading to over-friendly contact. And, believe me, the lines Randy drew never had slack in them. He knew full-well too many talent in the business had no scruples so he never subjected his beloved to the chance. Let there be no mistake -- wound up as the “Macho” element of Randy’s life was, when it came to his marriage he was disciplined and controlled, had class and respected it traditionally.
I admired the way he handled their relationship and found it really heartwarming. In fact, that genuineness of their relationship is what made the work-ed parts work so well.
I spent a lot of time with Randy during the time of their separation and ultimately their divorce. Most of it in the hallways and locker rooms of coliseums; we were on the road, working our program together. Randy is meticulously tough but it really tested his spirit.
Elizabeth was at WCW in 1998 when I was there. I found out enough to know this: The best parts of her life were when she was with Randy and her regret that that was no more would never leave her. Hogan and his wife (and McMahon) can be thanked, and cursed, for that; planting ideas in her head that she was missing out on some magnificent untamed life adventure.
A little life advice: The grass is more times than not never greener on the other side. And it will be too late to jump back once you realize it was just a field full of weeds.
My thoughts go out to Randy, a first class act with a huge heart -- one that few ever got to see. Never will I forget that I did. There are some life experiences we can move beyond but never truly get over. For Randy and Elizabeth, I suspect, being married to one another was an instance falling into that category.
Thinking positive for you Randy -- Stay Strong. Time heals all wounds.
That said specifically about the death of Elizabeth and my condolences extended to Randy -- I just can’t find it in myself to have any sympathy for adults who are irresponsible, stupid or afraid to grow up.
It hurts me more that young kids, who have not yet had the chance in life to test their own free will, go to bed hungry or are subject to some form of adult abuse. I don’t apologize for how my mind works on this issue. Neither do I care who I offend. Adult people wanting to choose actions that may lead to their own death, let 'em.
For more thorough thought read these: here and here. I spoke at length some time ago about DRUGS, GROWING UP, and CONSEQUENCES when Davey Boy died. Controversial to some, clear in their own right, these posts are great reads if you have the courage.
BTW, did they ever solve that murder mystery surrounding Davey’s Death?
Luger. Sorry and sad all over. There is nothing more inexcusable and unmanly than beating a woman. Between Elizabeth and he things were not good. Elizabeth now dead, things for Luger really look bad.
Has anyone checked to see if there is a blinking neon 24 hour pharmacy sign attached to the side of his house? Don't. It's no use. ALL the drugs were his and we ALL know it. Luger is walking bowlegged in "NO MAN" land. A land where his balls are shrunken up inside him and his skull is going Cro-Magnon. An existence where a grown adult man can find no self-worth in himself beyond his pills and his physique. A place where skinny people hallucinogenically resemble hypodermic needles filled with GH and fat people become the next high calorie meal. A place...ahem -- sorry about that, having a UW moment.
Seriously folks, making the personal choice to remain on anabolics et al without the goal of being in the ring or using the physique to succeed is patent Freudian lunacy. Taking the juice just to be the big guy at the gym who looks super in the tight shirt is very, very shallow.
Christ man, people have got to get on board with growing up here -- what the hell is going on with people's thinking?
I just can't comprehend how men who make careers of their physical prowess get to a place where they think like that...
If I continued to have to have an everyday physique like that of my ring physique just to maintain self-esteem, I'd be a pathetic human. One who should only be so lucky to find himself dead in a dirty gutter so as to put an end to the misery of waking up everyday.
I DID IT. I don't have to prove my physicality to anybody. I bested them all. Luger doesn't have anything to prove anymore. HE DID IT. He built one of the best physiques the SE industry ever saw. He succeeded in the business. Now move on.
I used to laugh at bodybuilders I knew years ago who ridiculed Arnold when he first showed up in his movies physically smaller than his champion bodybuilding days. It was funny how they couldn't see that he used his bodybuilding success to succeed at other things. Like, because his physique wasn't competition ready he was failing somehow. I can still go out to Gold's Gym in Santa Monica and find guys that were out there 20 years ago still hanging out in the gym all day long and don't make a dime off it, and now they've convinced themselves there's nothing else they can do. So what, they look great in their gym clothes! We don't need more 40-50-60 year old fruitcakes running around in spandex -- without goals, without purpose -- without a life!
Today, not out in the ring, if some always-in-a-size-small-tanktop-legless-moron wants to stupidly challenge me about my lighter bodyweight of 235-45 compared to my 275-85 lb ready to hit the ring physique, I get real close and let them know very quickly "if what UW did is the standard you are judging by, don't forget I'm the one that f'ing set it. Until you reach it, and from the look of things we can all tell you never will, I strongly suggest you scurry off and pester someone who gives a rat's ass what you think -- you understand?"
The point isn't that you surrender or retire your overdrive gear. The self-discipline is always there to make all the punks look like anorexics. It just means my manliness doesn't come from maintaining an in-the-ring physique.
Luger thinks his manliness does. That is deplorable and he is sorely mistaken.
Let me add this: No champion in anything athletic or otherwise becomes a champion because of drugs. It's a f'ing joke to believe otherwise. A loser's joke concocted by those who don't have what it takes to succeed at anything; people who are failures even at waking up each day. Incredible hard work, incredible foke and incredible self-discipline is what it to be a champion. Luger and a ton of others need to get a better grip on this. Luger needs to have more confidence in knowing it so he can get his Cro-magnon head out of his ass and move beyond the ring if no more opportunities are there. Others need to know that taking all the drugs in the world won't make you a champion if you don't have the real stuff it takes.
As long as Luger refuses to put it in that perspective, and he keeps irrationally believing otherwise, as it so seems...well, the guy's got one whole leg in the grave, and I'll say what others are thinking -- he should've gone to the morgue, not Elizabeth. Chances are better than great anyway that whatever she found herself into Luger was her tutor and supplier.
When Henning died many stepped forward to talk about how funny he was. I found it funny that none of his immediate friends or colleagues stepped forward to add that he was obviously very, very stupid and disturbed, as well. A forty-four year old family man with a wife and 3-4 kids depending on him, sprawled out on a budget hotel room bed OD’ed on cocaine is very stupid and irresponsible. I wonder if he still got charged for the room.
Wrestling in front of 200 people after you have had a successful career wrestling in front of tens of thousands is not love for the business. It’s idiocy and says something very serious about the lack of character and rational self-esteem a grown-up man does not have.
A young kid wanting to live out his dream can have legitimate reasons for doing so; a mature grown man, especially one with a family, can’t. And that he rationalizes some, simply forecasts an irresponsible heading toward a train wreck.
Henning’s life was that train wreck getting ready to happen and others saw it. Yet nobody was friend enough to step in. I guess that’s why they say with friends like that who needs enemies, and why after Curt turned up DOA all his friends could come up with was: “Curt was funny. Boy, he was funny.”
Curt made the choice to end up dead instead of the choice to grow up. He was ok with it. I’m ok with it.
Our streets and neighborhoods just don’t need more adults (especially males) who are irresponsible and afraid to grow up. Whatever works toward that goal we should embrace, including quick, bloodless, deadly self-destruction. Man, that’s heelish isn’t it? Aw shucks, my mind’s eyes say leave it in...
Callous? Outrageous? Maybe. But then again I may just be offended, myself, because I’m thinking about protecting my own kids growing up in a world where sympathy for low-life behaviors is promoted more than the necessary seriousness we need to have about the conduct of our own lives and the judgments we must make regarding the conduct of others.
Decent, thinking and truly caring people in this country have gone to such bend-over-backwards extremes in tolerating hateful, egregious subhuman actions, the least I can do as a adult man with a chest big enough is brazenly put forward extreme thoughts. Anyone with a problem in tolerating those can do a hell of a lot more than kiss my ass.
There are a lot of whoremongering informants wondering what it all means that still-young former talent are regularly found in a state of rigor mortis and how do we stop it and how sick you all are of it. Like you really care...give me a break. You people aren’t even good at your cons...
Let me first assure you, at almost 44 years of age, I’m not buying into the voodoo jinx of it all -- in fact, I dare the grim reaper to take me before I finish this post -- come on you ugly bastard -- STOP MY CLOCK! Just try it! I spit in your face -- oh, forgot to take my pills and do my cocaine. Damn, I knew there was a trick to it... and a swig of whiskey to wash it down ought to set a somber tone for dying that is just right...
Hey I told you -- I won’t be an easy kill. Death will have to work hard to take me.
My wholesome warrior suggestion is that you quit being hypocrites and stop patronizing the industry, entirely. People who choose death will end up dead. I know that statement is absolutely brilliant on my part -- still the same, don’t let its beauty have you overlook its truth. People will do what they are hell-bent on doing and no amount of sympathetic pleading is going to change that. Quit giving it your energies. Sit back and enjoy the deathwatch. Expending effort at the sake of using it for things productive to your own lives is stupid and irresponsible all by itself (without the high to fallaciously enjoy it).
Truth is -- while you keep patronizing the industry you feed the debauchery, and even the death. See the patronage as the death knell to talent. Come on, you have to know you’re participating in the killing and just laughing silly all the way to the morgue. And, let me enlighten you and be more bold, come out of my shell a little here, even chance offending people unlike how I have tried very hard not to do up till now -- WWE needs the debauchery and death.
Yes, I know, I know, you’re flabbergasted. Can’t believe I said it. Is he serious or kidding? Only the Warriorman knows.
But they do and we all know it...
For a couple of reasons. One, it lessens the headaches over what to do with used-up talent begging to be kept on the payroll for life. And it’s a quick, non-litigious way to get rid of done-for talent who have their sights set on becoming sycophantic agents (these guys can’t afford drugs so they never die). Unlikely to admit it, this selective elimination is a convenience I’m sure WWE would like to be able to depend on. Odds of that are getting better, you have to agree.
Two, and most importantly, the debauchery and death makes them stand out from the ubiquitous cultural degeneracy. It’s competitive out there and the provocative envelope has been pushed so far it’s inside out. What else depraved to do? You have to do something specially sick to get attention these days. The drug-induced deaths of former superstars are better scripts than even if a bunch of junkie necrophiliacs were writing the stories.
Nobody in the WWE cares. And guess what? They aren’t obliged to. The person least likely to say it, I must. It takes a lot of effort not to feel sorry for Vince sometimes. He really does have to deal with a ton of pathetic personalities. Guys with no real guts, just fake ones. Guys who don’t have any principles, no personal self-worth or power. Guys who won’t stand up for anything. Of course, these kinds of character traits are prerequisites today to be qualified to work for the McMahons. And they never go out of style. In fact, It is very clear some previous generation guys have bottomless pits capable of swallowing loads of their own rancid pride and plenty of Vince's s#%&. Still, juggling all the human deficiency must be tiring.
The house that the McMahons built has always been filled with rooms minus mirrors (ask Hogan who still believes he has hair, and creativity, worth keeping). Too many have fooled themselves into believing they never noticed instead of what has long been true -- their own faces are the faces they most fear seeing.
Ask any never-made-a-dime-off-the-talents-I’ve-delusionally-convinced-myself-I-have-from-the-privacy-of-my-own-bedroom pundits. They know -- they live there. It’s the address of their meal ticket. Like cockroaches on counter crumbs, they come out at dark -- the dark of debauchery and death.
Parasites they are on bodies alive; maggots they are on the carcasses of the dead.
Crying and criticizing. Condemning and condoning.
Debauchery and death. Late night punditry thrives on it.
They cheer most loudly for the cowards and degenerates to keep from hearing their own voices screaming back the same disgusting truths about themselves.
Life is not having it both ways. Death awaits all who try to find a way around that.
Who are you? What are you about? What are you willing to put up with? What are you willing to do? Ask yourself.
Time’s up, got to run...
Till we meet up this wrestling aisle again, my Warrior mind keeps growing outside the ring. Better than those discussed herein -- Always unafraid and unembarrassed to tell it. You are welcome. Your Founding Father of ring intensity,
Warrior
s.t.
Hello warriors. Again, great emails...
On the road, so a short, recreational post today getting at a bit of ‘rassling news that's around...
Well now, it’s getting harder to be surprised. “Who’s next?” has less to do with that unprincipled sellout Goldberg the WWE is hanging its pragmatic hopes on than it does with who’s next in taking their last breath.
I got a ton of requests to comment on the deaths of Elizabeth and Curt Henning. Both times I heard the news I did some looking around. Lot of sorry, phony despondency is what I found. Iron stomach that I have, by the time I quit scouting the polluted wrestling-related internet, it had me nauseous. There are parts of the internet that really are just a gob of unctuous patheticness. All the little gossipy sites and their sprinkly, irritating pop-up adds -- To laugh is to puke. Do these people have any serious interests? Like, having a life outside their 100 sq. ft bedrooms?
The best worm-eaten line I read was something Road Warrior Animal said. Looking forward to his 4th or 5th serving of McMahon poop-pie after toughly swearing each successive time Hawk and he would never be back, Animal said he was “glad morals are coming back into the business.” Earth to Ani...ah, forget it. Whoever is looking for a serious, Starship Enterprise hook-up needs to get with Animal because he’s got to be smoking or injecting the best stuff there is -- that line is simply from another friggin’ planet.
Morals are coming back? He must be confusing PAX with WWE to ease his shame about bowing and bending over at the altar of McMahon...again...again...and again. Hey Joe, don't feel too bad, it's only begging. Since when were morals synonymous with born-agains (Hawk! and him? born-again) behaving like hypocrites? Here we go one more time -- a born-again's piety being used as an excuse instead of an empowerment. Born-agains who don't should be outraged. Where's Pastor Michaels when you need him? Oh, that's right he's one of their ilk, too. I mean, even Bret Hart, a guy who recently paid a very close to visit to the Almighty, doesn't believe Michaels has truly seen the light, ergo, doesn't believe Michaels -- what more evidence do we need to have? If Bret thinks so, who are we to disagree? That would be like arguing with God, wouldn't it? You experts figure it out...
A few words about the death of Elizabeth.
I knew the Elizabeth the whole world knew -- she was Randy’s wife. Few talent -- if that many -- ever got closer to her than that while they were married. Randy was very protective of her and did not allow a line leading to over-friendly contact. And, believe me, the lines Randy drew never had slack in them. He knew full-well too many talent in the business had no scruples so he never subjected his beloved to the chance. Let there be no mistake -- wound up as the “Macho” element of Randy’s life was, when it came to his marriage he was disciplined and controlled, had class and respected it traditionally.
I admired the way he handled their relationship and found it really heartwarming. In fact, that genuineness of their relationship is what made the work-ed parts work so well.
I spent a lot of time with Randy during the time of their separation and ultimately their divorce. Most of it in the hallways and locker rooms of coliseums; we were on the road, working our program together. Randy is meticulously tough but it really tested his spirit.
Elizabeth was at WCW in 1998 when I was there. I found out enough to know this: The best parts of her life were when she was with Randy and her regret that that was no more would never leave her. Hogan and his wife (and McMahon) can be thanked, and cursed, for that; planting ideas in her head that she was missing out on some magnificent untamed life adventure.
A little life advice: The grass is more times than not never greener on the other side. And it will be too late to jump back once you realize it was just a field full of weeds.
My thoughts go out to Randy, a first class act with a huge heart -- one that few ever got to see. Never will I forget that I did. There are some life experiences we can move beyond but never truly get over. For Randy and Elizabeth, I suspect, being married to one another was an instance falling into that category.
Thinking positive for you Randy -- Stay Strong. Time heals all wounds.
That said specifically about the death of Elizabeth and my condolences extended to Randy -- I just can’t find it in myself to have any sympathy for adults who are irresponsible, stupid or afraid to grow up.
It hurts me more that young kids, who have not yet had the chance in life to test their own free will, go to bed hungry or are subject to some form of adult abuse. I don’t apologize for how my mind works on this issue. Neither do I care who I offend. Adult people wanting to choose actions that may lead to their own death, let 'em.
For more thorough thought read these: here and here. I spoke at length some time ago about DRUGS, GROWING UP, and CONSEQUENCES when Davey Boy died. Controversial to some, clear in their own right, these posts are great reads if you have the courage.
BTW, did they ever solve that murder mystery surrounding Davey’s Death?
Luger. Sorry and sad all over. There is nothing more inexcusable and unmanly than beating a woman. Between Elizabeth and he things were not good. Elizabeth now dead, things for Luger really look bad.
Has anyone checked to see if there is a blinking neon 24 hour pharmacy sign attached to the side of his house? Don't. It's no use. ALL the drugs were his and we ALL know it. Luger is walking bowlegged in "NO MAN" land. A land where his balls are shrunken up inside him and his skull is going Cro-Magnon. An existence where a grown adult man can find no self-worth in himself beyond his pills and his physique. A place where skinny people hallucinogenically resemble hypodermic needles filled with GH and fat people become the next high calorie meal. A place...ahem -- sorry about that, having a UW moment.
Seriously folks, making the personal choice to remain on anabolics et al without the goal of being in the ring or using the physique to succeed is patent Freudian lunacy. Taking the juice just to be the big guy at the gym who looks super in the tight shirt is very, very shallow.
Christ man, people have got to get on board with growing up here -- what the hell is going on with people's thinking?
I just can't comprehend how men who make careers of their physical prowess get to a place where they think like that...
If I continued to have to have an everyday physique like that of my ring physique just to maintain self-esteem, I'd be a pathetic human. One who should only be so lucky to find himself dead in a dirty gutter so as to put an end to the misery of waking up everyday.
I DID IT. I don't have to prove my physicality to anybody. I bested them all. Luger doesn't have anything to prove anymore. HE DID IT. He built one of the best physiques the SE industry ever saw. He succeeded in the business. Now move on.
I used to laugh at bodybuilders I knew years ago who ridiculed Arnold when he first showed up in his movies physically smaller than his champion bodybuilding days. It was funny how they couldn't see that he used his bodybuilding success to succeed at other things. Like, because his physique wasn't competition ready he was failing somehow. I can still go out to Gold's Gym in Santa Monica and find guys that were out there 20 years ago still hanging out in the gym all day long and don't make a dime off it, and now they've convinced themselves there's nothing else they can do. So what, they look great in their gym clothes! We don't need more 40-50-60 year old fruitcakes running around in spandex -- without goals, without purpose -- without a life!
Today, not out in the ring, if some always-in-a-size-small-tanktop-legless-moron wants to stupidly challenge me about my lighter bodyweight of 235-45 compared to my 275-85 lb ready to hit the ring physique, I get real close and let them know very quickly "if what UW did is the standard you are judging by, don't forget I'm the one that f'ing set it. Until you reach it, and from the look of things we can all tell you never will, I strongly suggest you scurry off and pester someone who gives a rat's ass what you think -- you understand?"
The point isn't that you surrender or retire your overdrive gear. The self-discipline is always there to make all the punks look like anorexics. It just means my manliness doesn't come from maintaining an in-the-ring physique.
Luger thinks his manliness does. That is deplorable and he is sorely mistaken.
Let me add this: No champion in anything athletic or otherwise becomes a champion because of drugs. It's a f'ing joke to believe otherwise. A loser's joke concocted by those who don't have what it takes to succeed at anything; people who are failures even at waking up each day. Incredible hard work, incredible foke and incredible self-discipline is what it to be a champion. Luger and a ton of others need to get a better grip on this. Luger needs to have more confidence in knowing it so he can get his Cro-magnon head out of his ass and move beyond the ring if no more opportunities are there. Others need to know that taking all the drugs in the world won't make you a champion if you don't have the real stuff it takes.
As long as Luger refuses to put it in that perspective, and he keeps irrationally believing otherwise, as it so seems...well, the guy's got one whole leg in the grave, and I'll say what others are thinking -- he should've gone to the morgue, not Elizabeth. Chances are better than great anyway that whatever she found herself into Luger was her tutor and supplier.
When Henning died many stepped forward to talk about how funny he was. I found it funny that none of his immediate friends or colleagues stepped forward to add that he was obviously very, very stupid and disturbed, as well. A forty-four year old family man with a wife and 3-4 kids depending on him, sprawled out on a budget hotel room bed OD’ed on cocaine is very stupid and irresponsible. I wonder if he still got charged for the room.
Wrestling in front of 200 people after you have had a successful career wrestling in front of tens of thousands is not love for the business. It’s idiocy and says something very serious about the lack of character and rational self-esteem a grown-up man does not have.
A young kid wanting to live out his dream can have legitimate reasons for doing so; a mature grown man, especially one with a family, can’t. And that he rationalizes some, simply forecasts an irresponsible heading toward a train wreck.
Henning’s life was that train wreck getting ready to happen and others saw it. Yet nobody was friend enough to step in. I guess that’s why they say with friends like that who needs enemies, and why after Curt turned up DOA all his friends could come up with was: “Curt was funny. Boy, he was funny.”
Curt made the choice to end up dead instead of the choice to grow up. He was ok with it. I’m ok with it.
Our streets and neighborhoods just don’t need more adults (especially males) who are irresponsible and afraid to grow up. Whatever works toward that goal we should embrace, including quick, bloodless, deadly self-destruction. Man, that’s heelish isn’t it? Aw shucks, my mind’s eyes say leave it in...
Callous? Outrageous? Maybe. But then again I may just be offended, myself, because I’m thinking about protecting my own kids growing up in a world where sympathy for low-life behaviors is promoted more than the necessary seriousness we need to have about the conduct of our own lives and the judgments we must make regarding the conduct of others.
Decent, thinking and truly caring people in this country have gone to such bend-over-backwards extremes in tolerating hateful, egregious subhuman actions, the least I can do as a adult man with a chest big enough is brazenly put forward extreme thoughts. Anyone with a problem in tolerating those can do a hell of a lot more than kiss my ass.
There are a lot of whoremongering informants wondering what it all means that still-young former talent are regularly found in a state of rigor mortis and how do we stop it and how sick you all are of it. Like you really care...give me a break. You people aren’t even good at your cons...
Let me first assure you, at almost 44 years of age, I’m not buying into the voodoo jinx of it all -- in fact, I dare the grim reaper to take me before I finish this post -- come on you ugly bastard -- STOP MY CLOCK! Just try it! I spit in your face -- oh, forgot to take my pills and do my cocaine. Damn, I knew there was a trick to it... and a swig of whiskey to wash it down ought to set a somber tone for dying that is just right...
Hey I told you -- I won’t be an easy kill. Death will have to work hard to take me.
My wholesome warrior suggestion is that you quit being hypocrites and stop patronizing the industry, entirely. People who choose death will end up dead. I know that statement is absolutely brilliant on my part -- still the same, don’t let its beauty have you overlook its truth. People will do what they are hell-bent on doing and no amount of sympathetic pleading is going to change that. Quit giving it your energies. Sit back and enjoy the deathwatch. Expending effort at the sake of using it for things productive to your own lives is stupid and irresponsible all by itself (without the high to fallaciously enjoy it).
Truth is -- while you keep patronizing the industry you feed the debauchery, and even the death. See the patronage as the death knell to talent. Come on, you have to know you’re participating in the killing and just laughing silly all the way to the morgue. And, let me enlighten you and be more bold, come out of my shell a little here, even chance offending people unlike how I have tried very hard not to do up till now -- WWE needs the debauchery and death.
Yes, I know, I know, you’re flabbergasted. Can’t believe I said it. Is he serious or kidding? Only the Warriorman knows.
But they do and we all know it...
For a couple of reasons. One, it lessens the headaches over what to do with used-up talent begging to be kept on the payroll for life. And it’s a quick, non-litigious way to get rid of done-for talent who have their sights set on becoming sycophantic agents (these guys can’t afford drugs so they never die). Unlikely to admit it, this selective elimination is a convenience I’m sure WWE would like to be able to depend on. Odds of that are getting better, you have to agree.
Two, and most importantly, the debauchery and death makes them stand out from the ubiquitous cultural degeneracy. It’s competitive out there and the provocative envelope has been pushed so far it’s inside out. What else depraved to do? You have to do something specially sick to get attention these days. The drug-induced deaths of former superstars are better scripts than even if a bunch of junkie necrophiliacs were writing the stories.
Nobody in the WWE cares. And guess what? They aren’t obliged to. The person least likely to say it, I must. It takes a lot of effort not to feel sorry for Vince sometimes. He really does have to deal with a ton of pathetic personalities. Guys with no real guts, just fake ones. Guys who don’t have any principles, no personal self-worth or power. Guys who won’t stand up for anything. Of course, these kinds of character traits are prerequisites today to be qualified to work for the McMahons. And they never go out of style. In fact, It is very clear some previous generation guys have bottomless pits capable of swallowing loads of their own rancid pride and plenty of Vince's s#%&. Still, juggling all the human deficiency must be tiring.
The house that the McMahons built has always been filled with rooms minus mirrors (ask Hogan who still believes he has hair, and creativity, worth keeping). Too many have fooled themselves into believing they never noticed instead of what has long been true -- their own faces are the faces they most fear seeing.
Ask any never-made-a-dime-off-the-talents-I’ve-delusionally-convinced-myself-I-have-from-the-privacy-of-my-own-bedroom pundits. They know -- they live there. It’s the address of their meal ticket. Like cockroaches on counter crumbs, they come out at dark -- the dark of debauchery and death.
Parasites they are on bodies alive; maggots they are on the carcasses of the dead.
Crying and criticizing. Condemning and condoning.
Debauchery and death. Late night punditry thrives on it.
They cheer most loudly for the cowards and degenerates to keep from hearing their own voices screaming back the same disgusting truths about themselves.
Life is not having it both ways. Death awaits all who try to find a way around that.
Who are you? What are you about? What are you willing to put up with? What are you willing to do? Ask yourself.
Time’s up, got to run...
Till we meet up this wrestling aisle again, my Warrior mind keeps growing outside the ring. Better than those discussed herein -- Always unafraid and unembarrassed to tell it. You are welcome. Your Founding Father of ring intensity,
Warrior
