Suit and Tie is a pretty good song. If you haven’t heard it, it’s one of Justin Timberlake’s new singles off of his upcoming new album and it features Jay-Z. When I say it’s pretty good, that means I enjoy it and think many people will, Kanye West not included. The backdrop is lively and exciting; JT’s voice and lyrics, save for one or two select lines, offer his traditional level of swag that only he seems to exude, and Jay-Z’s verse doesn’t take away from the song.
Therein lies my critiquing, however. Suit and Tie is pretty good, but it’s not great. A few lines are too grandiose for someone, even of Timberlake’s stature, to take seriously, and Jay-Z’s verse, while taking nothing away from the song, is unmemorable and unnecessary. The true star of the track is Timbaland (Virginia knows music ^_^) and his key role in the production. The blaring trumpets add that terrific little bit of “extra” that pushes the song forward.
But I have to come back to the Jay-Z verse because it follows what feels like a trend of uninspired verses (“Get up out ya seat, Hov” is SO hilarious in that regard) with his guest appearances. Perhaps I wouldn’t harp on it so much if he didn’t sound like he was trying to imitate a certain “good” rapper’s flow; metaphors aside, he sounds like he’s trying to – and not successfully – channel Kanye West’s style, down to the lyrics, and I can only imagine he’s still feeling the sting from Renegade 2.0, or Run This Town if you want to use the official terminology.
The track didn’t need a guest verse, period, may have even been just as good without it (translation: remix) but if it was
doomed destined to have one then I could have just as easily seen longtime Jay-Z rival and current musical winner Nas taking that spot, if we’re set on using legends. His recent experiences and album, all storied for better or worse, put him in a position where he could offer a grandiose and club-ready verse that didn’t just sound inspired, but fitting. A guest verse is a deadly trap on many songs because it could easily result in the guest rapper overshadowing the main star, but it has to add to the song and NOT take away from the main performer either. To Jay-Z’s credit, he doesn’t take away from the song, but that’s about all. Otherwise he comes across as bored and underpaid. Kind of brings Kanye’s rant about not liking Suit and Tie into perspective, doesn’t it?
See what I just did there? That was analysis. That’s what we do here at L.E.W.D., all of us, and we do it with pride, dignity and a little thing called class. Therefore, when we craft some gold (which is normal: it would be better to use the metaphor of platinum or diamond) we like it when people listen, view and respond. Yes, we like it. We like it more than Grand Puba and his track “I Like It” and how he liked the track “I Like It” from DeBarge, who collectively liked Janet Jackson. Just shy of love, but rather high on like.
Some of you may agree with us. Some of you may not. Some of you may like how we talk about possibly bookings. Some of you may not like how we seem to systematically dismantle Total Nonstop Action Wrestling. Well again, we appreciate all of these opinions, but at the end of the day it comes down to one simple mentality, as vocalized by this large, scary gentleman here:
That being said, there’s a stereotype that we here at L.E.W.D. headquarters that we HATE Total Nonstop Action Wrestling. This is untrue. It can be said that I, Da Infamous One, hate TNA. That wouldn’t be an untruth. No one here, except for maybe a couple, has shed more tears over the company and it’s tremendous wasted potential than I have, but to their credit they may have shed tears of sorrow. Not
I know what you’re thinking. “So DiZ, you amorous avatar of acceptable avarice, if you hate – and reasonably so – TNA so much, why are you talking about it?” Well to answer you question, loyal serf or dishonorable Smith, I am giving the ill-fated company my attention because there is a PPV tonight. Yes, tonight is the ninth annual Lockdown, live from San Antonio’s scenic Alamodome. After months of build up, we get to see a number of matches that feature… wait, let me give it the proper definition: it will feature professional wrestling matches that involve different wrestlers from pre-existing scripted feuds and storylines. Wrestlers will portray villains, heroes or less distinguishable characters in the scripted events that build tension and culminated in a wrestling match or a series of matches.
And no one cares.
Understand, I was going to put that line in later but here is just as good as there. No one cares. That’s not to say that TNA doesn’t have fans that care (we know my point of view on TNA “fans”), but frankly very little makes sense. TNA comes across as a place where wrestling matters, and nothing else does, not even wrestling. Yes, it’s a contradiction of itself and that’s how it goes at an R. Kelly party.
But the wrestling fan/analyst/bon vivant/world class connoisseur of the booty that is me (Da Infamous One) knows that TNA still has a chance to be something, and that is why I continue to watch the car crash that is Dixie Carter’s establishment. Hopefully it’ll get better in time. I just doubt it’ll be tonight. So while I prepare to shed more tears, I briefly look at the current card and offer a few words of commentary, giving you all a semblance of solace at how my hatred for TNA is nothing compared to the melancholy (total lack of care) that comes from the media:
So onward to the matches!
Robbie E vs. Robbie T
For a long time I had a long time telling who was who, and even now I have a hard time telling. I like the big one; he’s awkward and less annoying. Watching the disruptive destruction of the Jersey Shore knockoffs even new sexy bodied Snookie would find to be annoying is fun, I’ll admit that, but it’s hard to take it anymore than just that: fun. Not even high fun, just regular fun. I find it disproportionate because while big Robbie is enjoyable, little Robbie is like an over groomed poodle: he’s there and he’s little else. Is he good in the ring? Sure. Are they both good in the ring? No doubt. But let’s be honest: TNA excels in putting on good physical action. You will be hard pressed to find anyone on this site who thinks otherwise. But professional wrestling without good storytelling is not a good product. It’s kind of like God of War: Ascension. Sure, it’s a good game, but one bit of blatant misogyny can ruin the experience something fierce, and that’s saying something when bare breasts, horny harems and my absolute favorite (don’t judge me) media representation of the goddess Aphrodite (Venus if you’re part of the Roman crowd) are the norm.
At the end of the day, I expect the big Robbie to win, start “dancing” to dubstep, and continue being as awkward as only he knows how to be. That’s about it.
Joseph Park vs. Joey Ryan
I thought Joey Ryan was fired.
*eleven minutes later*
Seriously, I thought that *edited for the L.E.W.D. audience* was fired a long time ago. As valid as the porn star gimmick is (flies for a male but never for a female; I call that sexism!) it just seemed about as valid as Brad Maddox’s annoying douchebag character did to me. To Maddox’s credit, much like Sandow’s, I enjoy him. Joey Ryan, not so much. This isn’t even talking about Joseph Parks though.
And if you’ve seen some of my older posts, you’ll see that I like Joseph Parks. Hell, I think Parks is better off as Joseph than Abyss. Much like the bigger Robbie, he’s big, awkward and, most importantly, entertaining. Sure, the story of the character is odd. Why someone would willingly give up a job as a lawyer, in this economy, to be a wrestler in the number two company? Again, not logical, but Joseph Parks is still a very enjoyable figure to see go around the ring. You actually see this story of him improving, and frankly it displays a degree of brilliance I’m surprised the writers still have. He’s cool. And he’s likely going to win. Because he’s big. And in this company, big people eat the little people.
Kenny King (c) vs. Christian York vs. Zema Ion for the X Division Championship
Is this an Ultimate X match? If not, was there build up for this? If not… what?!
Don’t get me wrong: I like matches like these. These were, at one point of time, a shining star in the potential that was TNA’s primordial ooze. X Division matches and X Division wrestlers were quick, athletic, spunky and specialized in spots, and you know what? That was a-ok in my book. It made TNA worth watching because it was a part of their identity, along with a respectable women’s division and a six-sided ring, but now I wonder: what exactly IS the X Division? I remember there were weight requirements at one point a la light heavyweight/cruiserweight status, but now I don’t know.
I’m sure it’ll be a good match, but honestly: King JUST won the title from RVD. Where the hell is RVD in this championship match equation? If John Cena had the WWE title and lost in on RAW, I would fully expect him to be in a rematch at the next PPV. If Gillberg won a… heh, sorry, let me try that again. If Gillberg won… HA!
Okay, okay, one more time, I’ll get it this time around. Ahem! If Gillber…
I pick the champ to retain.
The Canadians (Austin Aries and Bobby Roode) (c) vs. Bad Influence (Christopher Daniels and Kazarian) vs. The Mexicans (Chavo Guerrero and Hernandez) for the TNA World Tag Team Championship
I know, I know, Austin Aries isn’t REALLY from Canada, but he’s from Wisconsin and dammit, that’s close enough!
Three-way tag team matches always confused me. Unless they were tornado tag matches, and even that has the potential to get really sloppy really quickly. The good news is that this match of six features six technicians, and every one of them knows how to put on a great match.
Before I talk about how I like a handful of these guys, let me say that this match DOES have some solid backstory. The Canadians are jerks who took the titles off of the Mexicans, and Bad Influence is a pair of overly entertaining jerks (I die every time Daniels calls Jeff Hardy “Jefferson” or Bully Ray “Raymond”) who wants gold. You don’t need a lot for a good story, people, and this is proof. All you need is good entertaining people to tell a passable story and let them do the rest with their ring work. And frankly, Christopher Daniels could do it solo: he has at least three people helping him with it though, so it’s even better.
As happy as I’d be to see Bad Influence win, I see… I see them winning, what a coincidence! While Austin and Roode are a great team, I see Bad Influence getting even “badder” and carrying the gold.
Velvet Sky (c) vs. Gail Kim for the TNA Women’s Knockout Championship
Isn’t it a bit contradictory – or at the very least unnecessary – to say “women’s” and “knockout”? Whatever. Do you know how much I love Gail Kim? Probably not. I don’t know what she does to stay looking so young, what she does to stay so fit (what with a celebrity chef for a husband), or what she does to stay so fresh and fluid in the ring, but she does it and she does it oh so well. God bless you, Gail Kim. Why, I remember going to Bound for Glory one year, my first wrestling PPV, and Gail Kim was in a match with… I don’t remember who and I don’t care. But I stood and cheered, screamed her name and celebrated throughout. While jumbo behind me didn’t find my standing and applauding to be amusing (wouldn’t have hurt for him to stand up himself, but I digress) I swear I saw Gail look my way and give me a wink. Oh, such wonderful memories. My heart went aflutter, my voice went up a notch, my pants felt a bit tighter and…
Er… uh… Gail Kim vs. Velvet Sky. I see Gail winning this one; a dirty win, mind you, with some grade A quality heel tactics, but it’s a good thing! Gail’s a heel right now, she needs to be doing that! At the risk of revealing more of my
lust love for Gail Kim I’m going to just move on now…
Kurt Angle vs. Wes Brisco
Story: Wes Brisco betrayed Kurt Angle and joined the Wild Bill Hickok English Speaking Vernacular. Period. Angle wants revenge. Brisco… I don’t know, he didn’t make the Lethal Lockdown team? Frankly they had to do SOMETHING with this talentless (yeah, I’m underwhelmed) kid.
This is the non-title, non-team cage match, and because cage matches work so well for Angle when the Two Pair Persecution Affinity is involved. Do I expect a good match? Frankly, no. I fully expect Angle to run circle around Brisco until the… bike-less gang interferes, with all their faceless recruits and, of course, D’Lo Brown. Because when you think old west themed biker gangs without bikes, you think a black man like D’Lo Brown!
You know what, I was gonna bring this up at the end but I’ll do it now: what asshole thought making D’Lo Brown part of this was a good idea?!! I think D’Lo was surprised when this was announced! Someone literally sat down and said, “I have an idea! Let’s make D’Lo a part of this!” And D’Lo probably went, “Wha? People don’t even know who the hell I am! Hell, I hardly know who I am! Let me check my underwear…” But it was too late! Not only does the outlaw biker gang sans bikes have yet ANOTHER black guy in it (cultural aspect) but it has someone in it that NOBODY knows! What do you think was the bigger Google search at the time?
Was it A:“Who is D’Lo Brown?”,
B: “Who the hell is D’Lo Brown?” or, my favorite
C: “Who the hell is D’Lo Brown?!!?!!?”
And Vice President?! A while back a conversation on Twitter regarding… a certain member of G.O.O.D. Music that was not Diminutive Anderson drove me away for the rest of the day. D’Lo Brown’s “reveal” as the vice president of this rather local, small-time, should-be-eaten-up-by-the-Black-Tuna-Gang piss pot of a biker gang (Ron Pearlman would NOT be amused) did the exact same thing, except it drove me away from TV, and video games, and made me curl up with my Kindle and read a book. Because I was sad, and nearly cried because TNA achieved the impossible. THAT I will reserve until a later paragraph though.
See that? In any case, I have Brisco winning due to leather vested interference.
Team TNA (The Joker, Richmond’s Favorite Foreigner, Wasted Talent Numero Uno, James Storm and Not-So-Super Eric) vs. Fifth Card Unknown (Pastor D-Von, Mr. Kennedy, Rey Mysterio’s Pimp, Imposter Kane and Diet Bischoff Lite)
I… no, to hell with it. I’m gonna go eat some ribs and cry in the sink. Team TNA is gonna win, happy?! Dammit!
*some time later*
There’s a reason everyone has their nickname, sans James Storm. Sting comes across as more and more psychotic as the weeks go by (not a good trait for a man running a show), Magnus is billed from Richmond, Virginia (which I hold to be a grimy location), Samoa Joe is completely and utterly underutilized, Eric Young was known as Super Eric as one point, Devon played a pastor character in the WWE, Anderson is… the same as when he was in the WWE, Mike Knox pretty much had Rey Mysterio singing Daddy’s Home every time Mike Knox was around way back when, Gallows was once the fake Kane and, finally, there’s Garett Bischoff… and we don’t care.
You may be wondering why James Storm was spared this treatment. Well, he was once allied with Gail Kim, and that means he gets even more respect from me. Now, since I’ve cried and had a few ribs, let’s talk about this match, shall we?
Jeff Hardy (c) vs. Bully Ray for the TNA World Heavyweight Championship
No, there’s really nothing to talk about for the previous match outside of the fact that it takes place in a cage… thing. It’ll be violent and, at the end of the day, pointless. It’s bad when an entire group is referred to as the world gimmick of 2012 (puts a damper on that whole “2013 is the year of Aces and Eights” thing, doesn’t it, Devon?). That thing I was referring to earlier, that I said I would revisit in a later paragraph? TNA has officially become the first company I know of that has systematically jumped the shark THRICE. That means three times. This James Butler Condemnation Affiliate is abysmal in every way, and the only thing that could redeem it now is a nude scene. Yes, a Brooke Hogan nude scene. Tasteless? Very, but you’ve given up on quality, you can at LEAST go for flat out smut.
But whatever. Jeff Hardy vs. Bully Ray for the championship, in a steel cage. What we have is everyone’s favorite redemption story (*holding my tongue*) versus everyone’s favorite friendly bully. It comes across as a bad episode of Recess, combined with an afterschool special with music done by Seth Macfarlane.
Yeah, that bad. But that’s a very basic view: the build-up was okay, at best, and the actual match has potential to be a good one. Bully Ray is a terrific wrestler and Jeff Hardy is a terrific stuntman. That means there will be a lot of jumping and a lot of mat work. It’ll be good, so long as Hardy isn’t drunk; NO! BAD DIZ, TAKE THAT BACK! What I meant to say was that it’ll be a good match so long as both parties are at their peak. That being said, I don’t know who is winning this one.
I have no idea: it’ll be the main reason I watch the PPV. If Hardy wins, then… nothing. That’s the end all be all. His story is one of getting beat up by the Hoyle Deck Society. Should Bully Ray win, nepotism is proven to be alive and well, and Triple H will be a 14-time world champion. Yeah, it was a lame joke, but that’s all Bully Ray’s storyline is right now. He falls in love with girl Hogan, marries girl Hogan, becomes the “future” of the company… it’s Triple H’s story, minus the fun, and the sexy brunette with an ass that just won’t quit. It’s still just a creepy relationship though; on-screen, in the mind, its like something out of a Tecmo game, and if you saw how the first draft of this piece went you’d know EXACTLY why that’s a problem!
But Hardy vs. Ray, or Jefferson vs. Raymond as Christopher Daniels might call it, is an unknown for me. I’ve no idea.
And that concludes my preview of 2013 Lockdown. Do I expect to be amused? Meh. Give me a good match with Gail Kim and a swift end to Wes Brisco’s TNA career, and MAYBE I’ll graduate from “meh” to “okay”. Blee.
I hope the L.E.W.D. Crew is ready for one heck of a throw down! As we’re all aware of now, prolific sports entertainment writers Joe Burgett and Jacob Waring will clash this Friday afternoon in a final battle to settle the controversial score set from their confrontations on Wrestle Enigma.
In an update on the looming battle, the Jacob Waring camp has defiantly chosen not to be unraveled by the poignant comments made by the Joe Burgett camp. The following is a response to Joe’s rather inflammatory monologue regarding the upcoming competition that was posted on ask.fm:
“Joe Burgett is a man whom does not gracefully accept defeat; he attacks the credibility of his opponents. He’s a little southern man whom is a one-man truther to his pathetic cause of being the best in Pro-Wrestling writing.
Allow me to dissect that disillusioned man boy whom is an egomaniac whom shoves his own ego down the throats of the masses. When he lost against me, he accused me of rounding up my friends to vote towards my way, and only vote for me.
I specifically told them to vote for whomever they wanted, but preferred if they voted for me, and for those In the other competition. I cannot control their actions, nor am I a puppet master of the voters that Joseph seems to paint me of being.
The third match-up, he added a stipulation being that an anonymous panel of five judges would vote on the better article. I won. I beat that ignominious fool, under his own stipulation. I slayed the man who believe he’s a god among writers.
He did not stay slayed for long. NO, he cried, whined that the panel of judges awarded me pity votes. He wanted another rematch, one that was undeserving.
Before our match-up this Friday, I want it to be known that I SHALL NOT FAIL! The pen is mightier than the sword, I will write the article with his blood from past competition. I shall deflate his ego to the point where he shall have to breast feed his ego to re-inflate it.
I shall beat him down by the might of my skills! The same way Hercules subdued and destroyed monsters, bandits, and criminals. He shall learn to bow down to my wisdom, learn to ACCEPT defeat. He shall rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor bowing down towards defeat.”
In true warrior fashion, the Jacob Waring camp has fired back resoundingly. Nevertheless, no amount of monologuing or posturing will be enough to determine the winner. The only way to do that is to stop by L.E.W.D. HQ this Friday to see these two pro wrasslin’ wordsmiths lay the journalistic smack down on one another!
Prepare yourselves for one heck of a throw down!
The announcement was made official last week, and we’ve received word from both camps that their fighters are ready to get down and dirty! So we, the faithful L.E.W.D. Crew members, proudly present the Friday Fracas of the Afternoon!!! Two top pro wrestling writers will duke it out here on the site, with the winner claiming ultimate supremacy over the loser, and the loser leaving with his head pathetically drooping in shame.
That’s right! Joe “OMG” Burgett will go toe-to-toe with Jacob “I’m Sorry, I Forgot the Tuna Salad” Waring in an analytical assessment that will titillate your senses, exasperate your emotions, and permeate your person to possibly percolate your intellect in a rousing wrasslin’ discussion!
Both wordsmiths of the squared circle have been engaged in a brutal war of words over the past few days concerning an alleged controversial ending to a recent contest over at Wrestle Enigma. This war recently came to a head on Twitter and Facebook, the 2013 alternative to meeting someone on the playground. Much like a modern-day, electronic and slightly more stylish Don King, our very own Mr. Quinn Gammon seized the opportunity and offered our home here to host another confrontation between these two giants in the pro wrestling internet community (not to be confused with the Internet Wrestling Community…there is a difference).
While we’ve yet to get any official word from Jacob Waring on the upcoming battle, sources within Mr. Burgett’s camp have authoritatively let the entire world know that the “champ” is ready to dispense one hell of a whoopin’ on his opponent. And in case you’re wondering it’s not considered “instigation” if it’s already on the internet for the whole world to see.
So make sure you grab all your friends and head to this site THIS FRIDAY, JAN. 25 for the Friday Fracas of the Afternoon!!! It’s gonna be a bombastic brouhaha!!!
“I am sofa king, we todd ed…”
– Dangerdoom, Sofa King
Been a minute since I’ve put a piece up here, and that minute will be a bit longer. Instead I’ve recorded a short bit where I get my Lewis Black on and rant about pro wrestling for a bit. Pardon the low quality of the audio; I was ranting and the microphone is a bit warped. That being said, enjoy!
“Spaceships don’t come equipped with rear view mirrors…”
–Andre 3000, International Players Anthem (I Choose You)
Greetings, fancy eating persons, and welcome to another edition of Me Talking About Wrestling, an episodic live review of professional wrestling programs where I take the time to bash every accomplishment, no matter how big or small, that the WWE or TNA throws at us. You may call me Da Infamous DiZ, aka Young Jon Lovitz Jr., aka Craig T. Nelson, aka Captain “Your Promotion Sucks And I Will Continually Bash It In Any Capacity” Man. Before you begin reading this, know that I hate the WWE AND TNA. TNA is just an easier target, and I approve of cheap shots.
Now! Time for another edition of a SmackDown! review! We begin with a recap of Monday, where the pro wrestling Donald Trump questions John Laurinaitis’ continued employment, and two-ton heel Big Show “punches” McMahon. Allow me to quote myself as I say this: “Recycled, retarded, rejected, NEXT SCENE!”
The funny thing is that SmackDown! is the better show for story in the WWE, but this is pretty weak. As our good friend Money said before, the focus in terms of story should be on the title. As Sir Quinn Gammon pointed out, after a minor debate where I conceded (won’t happen again) there is no show where the title is a focus. I didn’t add the qualifier of “major storyline” but screw it, he would have won that battle. Something else I will never concede.
Now here’s our resident crazy chick. Disclaimer: she’s gotten SO MUCH SEXIER since she’s gone crazy. She was sexy before, but notice how my pedophile jokes have COMPLETELY vanished. And as if it weren’t sexy enough, here comes Vickie. She talks about the new rise of Dolph Ziggler, and yes, I couldn’t be happier that this man is FINALLY getting the push he so deserves. Our favorite one-time, unforgettable champion is getting a proper rise, and yes, as he just said, he IS better than what he’s been recently given. Why Vickie and Ziggler came out during AJ’s set is beyond me, but I assume it’ll lead to a match between Ziggler and Punk in the near future. As in very, very soon. Like, tonight.
Ah, a smack by Guerrero. That was a serious smack. And AJ looks… pleased. Is that a masochistic streak too? Yeah… here’s Punk, with a microphone, and thank God because AJ just went into sexy overload for a second. Settle down, me, you can focus on that later. Now we focus on the master of the modern day pipe bomb.
Honestly, looking at Ziggler and Guerrero and Punk and AJ in the ring almost justifies the arbitrary mixed tag match required to keep the “global” appeal of the company going. And if these four alone weren’t enough (and they weren’t I venture to say) here comes Daniel Bryan. His “Captain Save-A-Ho” attitude has yet to wear thin but it’s quite humorous. This isn’t the first time he’s gone down the pimp path; at one point he was singing the International Player’s Anthem with Hispanic and Asian women. Two of them are unemployed and one of them is now the EX Knockout champ, losing to a woman who doesn’t deserve the title. I guess Bryan was right:
And finally we have the last piece of the puzzle: Sheamus. I still like Sheamus, but for the past 13 minutes we’ve had nothing but talking and big barking, the likes of which I haven’t experienced since Xzibit’s sorely underrated Weapons of Mass Destruction. Sheamus calls for the match to start now, to everybody’s enthusiasm, and AJ announces she has old business to take care of, which is going after Vickie. Sexiness at its peak again? Check. Commercials? Welp, I’ll be right back. Where’s that lotion…?
No, I’m joking, I’m not looking for any lotion; I’m just being a dirty young man. Actually this all goes back to how significant this storyline is. The focus isn’t on the belt – or The Precious as some people would unspeakingly like to call it (ADRIAN!) – but AJ is leading this story, and I can’t recall in recent history a woman who has even had such a prominent position. You wanna say Trish Stratus though, don’t you? Of course you do. Go ahead. Please comment on that in the comment section because I don’t remember and I sure as hell have no intention of doing any research right now. AJ, however, literally went from the bottom of the totem pole to the top, and honestly they – the WWE – might benefit from putting her again Vickie in the second half. It would be good for business, and it helps that females are privy to a slightly more significant role right now.
I’ll talk about that a little later (maybe): now we have our first match of the evening, the main event between the top champions Punk and Sheamus, versus their number one contenders Bryan and Ziggler. You know what’s already special? The fact that everyone in this match can WRESTLE. That already calls for this match to be worth the watch, and it even carries the managers on the outside. Visually this is nice. The action is nice. Even the personas of the wrestlers are showing here. Punk and Sheamus are eager brawlers, the latter more so than the former. Ziggler plays the role of the hungry man with something to prove and Bryan is the cowardly talented grappler. AJ is crazy, perfect for headstrong brawlers, and Vickie is calculating, perfect for the others. So this match should be great, right?
Well it is indeed very good. Very back and forth, very clean, very impressive. As we go to commercials again I’m excited to see what we get when we come back. Punk’s suspended suplex alone, aside from being a subtle “fuck you” to TNA and X Division champion Austin Aries (I read between the lines), was very cool.
I have a second now so I’ll talk about the women. First, TNA apologists, I need you to stop saying TNA has the best women’s division in pro wrestling. That’s a lie. Is it better than the WWE’s? Yes, undoubtedly, but they’re not the best. I just threw that in there to avoid any premature statements about “superior” women’s wrestling in the comments. But in the WWE, there is a very subtle, very understated rise of the fairer sex in the shows. If Layla was merely back to fill a void in the women’s division I would have just passed off this notion as a nagging feeling, but no, she’s shown TREMENDOUS improvement in her return and otherwise, and AJ is leading the WWE title story, which involves two former world champions as well as the current one, and she’s overshadowing them.
What. The. Freak?!
Back to that a little later again. Match back and Bryan and Ziggler are in control. And how quickly that can change. We’re about to go into brawl territory, and even through this match is good, I have to wonder if Kane is going to do something in this match. I still say that his very involvement in the WWE title hunt is suspicious, unless he’s leaving shortly (but that’s still suspicious) but nothing about his presence makes sense to me.
Dolph Ziggler and Daniel Bryan defeat Sheamus and CM Punk
Okay, funny. Ziggler running from Sheamus is hilarious. Vickie about to fight sexy crazy AJ is funnier. Vickie running is funny. AJ looking hurt, not quite as funny. Kane finally showing, weird. I joked last time around that AJ kissing Kane introduced the lost sense forgotten feeling of arousal to the man but now I’m starting to this we have dark things erupting from the would-be Maleficent (I’m a Disney movie nerd too).
And this is why AJ is such a clever creation right now. Lunacy gives rise to creativity, and with Laurinaitis being such a crafty bad guy (which I called, and correctly I might add) who is to say that AJ isn’t part of a grand scheme right now? Kane’s clumsy obsession, Bryan’s lingering princess that got away, Punk’s confused relationship, and who is holding all the cards? That’s right, the arousing little nymph that I used to make constant jokes about because of her youthful appearance. Now she’s the queen bee, and she knows it. We’re all under her spell and no, none of us are complaining. Hell, I’m not. You shouldn’t either.
This might be another innovation they’re testing out. I honestly don’t think they meant for Bryan to be as big as he is now, and as a result I don’t think AJ was supposed to have the prominence that she does now. I don’t think Kane, Punk and Bryan were supposed to be part of a twisted love quadrilateral with a woman who has yet to even say she has feelings for anyone currently. But it works, and we’re intrigued. For those of you that say the wrestling should be more prominent, I ask you this: what is pro wrestling minus story? The answer: a carnival attraction. And like Austin Powers I hate carnies and nuclear war.
Wait no, I fear carnies and nuclear war. Yeah, fear.
Preshow for No Way Out is Clay versus Otunga. Who cares, right, nobody.
You know why I don’t care? Because the Funkadactyls are out and Lord knows Booker T’s “shucky ducky quack quack” is appropo at their… entrance. Overload, my friends. Overlord. We’re reminded of Big Show’s bout of ethnic cleansing a few weeks ago, where Clay was beat up. He’s out here now, promo mode, talking while the sexy sistas to his left and right cosign. That’s called winning.
Okay, I have a question. Who’s wife did Heath Slater pork? That’s the only explanation for him being a jobber with an entrance right now. Losing to Ryback. Losing to Clay. Losing to Vader (LOVED that, mind you), and now he’s losing to Clay again. And quickly. Wendy’s pissed SOMEBODY off, and you know what? Don’t care. Never liked him.
Brodus Clay defeats Heath Slater
And here’s Otunga with the hit-and-run, which further confirms my thing about the ethnic cleansing. Last time a black guy was working so hard for his boss in this company Orlando Jordan was… well, let’s not talk about Orlando Jordan.
Clay is on his back, after getting flattened out by David Otunga, and… again, why? I appreciate the ass shots I’m getting of the Funkadactyls (I’m misogynistic and I don’t care!) but so what, Otunga gets an advantage in a preshow. Again, who cares? Minor stories are just that: minor, and they get worse when they’re smaller aspects of major stories.
I know this is random, but since I hear The Cosby Show in the background (I multitask; look out for Me Talking About Video Games, my video blog on Youtube) I have to say: Lisa Bonet and Bern Nadette Stanis were my earliest TV crushes. Seeing Bern Nadette Stanis in, as I call them, “dem jeans” and Lisa Bonet’s quirkiness (and steamy scenes in Angel Heart) were just beautiful to me. And still are. They’d get, as the French in France might say, “da bidniss” with “da kwikniss”.
As we come back from commercials we have our super sexy Divas’ champ Layla (who I STILL pray will one day bear my children) on commentary while the women who have no entrances – Alicia Fox and Beth Phoenix – have a very brief battle. Extremely brief.
Beth Phoenix defeats Alicia Fox (oh, big surprise)
Needless to say I want to see Layla win more than Beth. I also want Mickie James and Kharma in the WWE, but I have to wait, right? I don’t know why we came back from commercials if that’s all we were going to get at this juncture. We’re still talking about the Big Show thing and we have to give it to the WWE—
*starting sarcasm now*
These guys know how to creatively edit to cover up a major faux pas! You hardly even know that WMD didn’t connect with Vince’s face! I am in AWE of this genius, as in awe as I was with Vladimir Kozlov’s original theme song, that lyrical masterpiece as it was! Pootie Tang, sang Kozlov’s song for me!
*ending sarcasm now*
Back to the show, Hornswoggle’s little “My favorite things” segment actually is kinda sweet. I like the Muppets too, and all of you under the age of 35 should have been able to appreciate that episode. IT WAS KERMIT THE FREAKING FROG!
Here comes Big Johnny, sans scooter, and while I figured his salary or senior citizen’s status should afford him money for a new scooter, he’s delivering a stupid and very half assed apology for something he didn’t directly do. Need I direct you to my piece about him being the criminal mastermind in this city known as the WWE? I think I will, as a sign of my shameless plugging. You see the links. You know the score.
Interestingly enough, story is showing itself to be a big thing in the WWE right now; the problem is that its in spite of the titles. Actually, no, let me rectify that: the titles should be the focus, but whether or not that’s a good or a bad thing is a matter of opinion. If that contradicts that I said earlier then disregard that and focus on this. When you have a pure wrestling company I can see the titles maintaining the most prominence, story or no, matches or otherwise. But as I’ve said before, the WWE is a company trying to move into a more mainstream, multifaceted conglomerate. This is Hollywood soap opera kind of stuff, and I’ve seen better stories on the Thursday night news, but it’s not a BAD story. Laurinaitis’ attempt to take over the company is a sneaky story but it should be in the background, rising to prominence towards… let’s say Wrestlemania or, maybe, Summerslam. I don’t know.
Big Show is talking, and honestly I love how he can talk to the crowd. Whether he’s name dropping or offering minor ad-libs you remain engaged. The funny thing is all the people he’s naming aren’t Grand Slam champions… BUT SHOW IS! It’s significant.
But as fun as it is to listen to Big Show speak, if it goes on too long I lose interest, and with SmackDown! always being the show that possesses the greater capacity to bore me than RAW, I’m ready to go about my business and sip some beer, from my new Atari-themed pint glasses. Sip your beer and…
Ah, John Laurinaitis and Big Show are stopped by Michael Cole, who is playing the role of stool pigeon by announcing John Cena’s “possible” arrival. Another sidenote, Michael Cole’s announcement just reminded me of The Flintstones movie. You know, that terrible POS film featuring a then somewhat unknown Halle Berry in a very, very skimpy leopard-print dress? The one where we all wished it would hike up just a little bit? The one where she should have flashed us as an apology for not only being in it but for all the people at the theater and on TV who watched it? I like Halle Berry.
The “real” character is also making a rise in the WWE right now. Big Show is a slick reflection of the current blue collar worker finally rising to white collar leisure after doing dirt. Oh, damn, that’s part of the The Flintstones plot. Yes, because Fred got to the top of his company by unintentionally using Barney’s test and, as a result, Barney was getting screwed and… yes, I watched the movie, okay?! I know the movie, deal with it! I was waiting for Halle to not be as sexy so I have to keep watching!
Our next match is – leave me along Adrian! – Christian, the Intercontinental champion and NOT inductee into the TNA Hall of Fame (it must be said), is going toe-to-toe with other former world champ, and unforgettable champion at that, Jack Swagger. Again, two more good wrestlers, two former world champions, and in a match that may or may not have a purpose. I’ve been wondering what they want to do with Swagger for a while, and he’s too talented (an admission I don’t like to make) to just be thrown around as a would-be underdog right now. Christian, on the other hand, is the champion and I don’t know why. Not complaining, mind you, just confused.
Swagger and Christian are capable of putting on good matches, and I enjoyed this fleeting battle for what its worth. RIP Eddie Guerrero.
Christian defeats Jack Swagger
Cutting to another commercial, we pause. Literally, I have nothing to say right now. I’ll plug my weekly video game vlog once more. It’s on Youtube, Me Talking About Video Games. The title is confusing so I’ll be frank: I talk about video games. Period. The first episode is briefly speaking on MMORPGs (or mumorpugers, as the great man and imminent sage Yahtzee might say) and the free-to-play…
Oh Lord, here comes the Ryback match. Ari Cohen and Mike Testa, I have to say their names now or I’ll never remember them. In fact…
Ryback anally rapes Ari Cohen and Mike Testa (signs of anal bleeding are sighted)
With that being said, let’s sigh and relax as we watch another massacre. To their credit, at least THESE jobbers don’t both look like anorexic Futurama rejects. I still want to see the pyro, but as it stands, Ryback is one of my favorite current wrestlers but he’s also boring me. Not him, but the fact that he’s still just beating up on jobbers. I’m enjoying the fact that he’s committing acts of murder on little people and displaying his strength and skill at the same time, but the only non-nameless jobber he’s beaten is… Heath Slater.
IS HEATH SLATER THE NEW SHANNON MOORE?!
Hell, I miss the old Shannon Moore… screw that, I don’t. I do miss Brian Kendrick though. He was great. Especially when he was THE Brian Kendrick.
I mean: Ryback, the point has been made. Now please, feed him something hearty for a change. You know, something that’s not a jobber, like Ted DiBiase, or Heath… Heath Slater. Christ, I’m seriously sighing every time I say that name. He’s fallen so far from grace! Look at the people of the Nexus and/or New Nexus now. Barrett is injured, Otunga is a sidekick to the major villain in the COMPANY, Skip is committing violent acts of murder on nameless foes (he actually knows their names, but we can’t know about his “kill list”), Gabriel is still capable of winning at least, so is McGuillicutty, the only one that can claim to be doing worse is Tarver, and that’s because he’s not in the WWE! He’s probably winning in a third-party circuit!
Oh, and lookee here, Tyson Kidd. And who is his opponent? Damien Sandow. Mr. I-Wear-A-Robe doesn’t amuse me. I’m not amused. Help me by getting into a match, you lazy bitch! I don’t care about your three-dollar words; they don’t mean nothing when you get a fifty-cent ass whupping!
Good, we have a match. I see this being another quick match, but not quite a jobber match.
Well, we can’t win em all… oh that cartwheel is so gay…
Damien Sandow defeats Tyson Kidd
So let’s backtrack right quick, as we have twenty minutes left on the program. We’ve had six matches. That rounds out to three matches an hour. That’s good. Good ratio. Only a couple of them were worth the time, but at the end of the day, it was not bad. Still not a fan of Sandow and his fruity cartwheels.
Hmm… you know, Michael Cole’s 1000 episode thing actually isn’t too bad. He sounds sincere. Might be a douche in real life (and I’ve no doubt he is) but that was a sincere sounding thing. Kudos, dickweed. Kudos.
So… we gonna get that Vickie Guerrero v. AJ match? Fifteen minutes left, I’d enjoy it. I’d also enjoy context with AJ’s mind control (or, to quote Ja Rule, It’s the power of the P-U-S… well, you get it) but I don’t mind waiting. Waiting makes the release better.
And here’s John Cena, walking backstage down a hallway. First to John’s office, which is empty. I would’ve liked another Big Show sucker punch. Those are always funny. But we’re back at commercials. Honestly, can we… you know, have less commercials? This isn’t the NFL. Speaking of which, NFL, can we have LESS commercials?!
I did a little research and yes, Tarver is the only ex-Nexus/New Nexus member NOT part of the WWE anymore. And he’s probably still winning more than… Heath Slater. Maybe I should put a picture of… that man next to one of Yung Berg. In fact, let me get in contact with Big Ghostface and push for the one-man rock band (I assume that band is Hanson) to be one of the ten softest dudes in the game in the sixth annual edition.
Finally we come to another B.A. Star segment, and I still find the humor in David Otunga being involved so actively in it while he’s a heel, and as such, a bully. A bad guy. We saw what he did to Brodus Clay earlier. Bully tactics. Why couldn’t Stephanie McMahon and her fine ass (and I do mean fine ass (DAT ASS, SON!)) be talking to the kids? They’d learn a lesson AND get a sight for sore, young eyes. Sight for my eyes at least. Misogyny, man, it doesn’t happen often so let me have my moments!
Sorry, Cena is in the ring. Laurinaitis is coming to the ring (seriously, he should be able to afford a new scooter) and now we get ANOTHER Cena/Laurinaitis talking promo in the ring. Dull. Recycled, retarded, rejected. Cena can go ahead and hit Big Johnny, I don’t care. None of this matters Big Show should win on Sunday, Cena should get his vacation, and now Cena has finally hit Laurinaitis and… I don’t care.
This episode of SmackDown! has been dull. Very dull. And uneven. At least last week I kept my eyes open. Where’s Big Show? Where’s the excitement, Mr. Excitement? The only fun was when AJ stepped up and took the stage. As motivating as she is, she can’t carry the entire show on her own. That being said, I give tonight’s episode a 2 out of 5. Not abysmal but not too good. Looking forward to next week… kinda. It’ll be following a PPV, so good.
Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the new purchased domain! I’ll be your captain, of this vessel (not really). Blee!
“As a victim I invented low key, ’til the keyhole itself got lower than me…”
– Slim Kid Tre (The Pharcyde); Runnin’
Last night, or rather early this morning, I was gathered with members of my family to indulge in the age old sport of spectating. In communion with these people whilst in the new home of one of them, we eagerly awaited the main bout that would occur following the game between Boston and Miami. To most people’s disappointment, Miami won. People were vocal about this.
But the wait for the pugilistic bout continued due to minor issues. The challenger, Bradley, a scrappy specimen out of California with a face I can only compare to my first created character in Saints Row the Third. The champion, Manny Pacquaio, a golden boy in the world of boxing, considered by many to be the face of this generation of scrappers. People made their predictions, waited patiently, and when the bell finally rung for the match to begin, we knew something after two rounds:
“This (expletive) Bradley gettin’ his ass whooped!”
Yes. After two rounds it was clear that Bradley was not in Pacquaio’s league, and the only thing more comical than the slow transition the Philippine renaissance man made from serious to fun was Bradley’s trainer, who continually dropped f-bombs and tried to assure his fighter that he could still win. A particular quote that stuck out to me came near the latter half of the fight where he said:
“One more round and you make history.”
My thought process was that the history would be his first loss; Diaz meant something more. To the surprise of me, my family and quite possibly everyone with a mind large enough to process that two is more than one, the 12 round conflict came to a split decision in favor of Bradley. Cell phones and tantrums alike were thrown. Even Mr. Bradley couldn’t believe that he gained the victory. As the new WBO welterweight champion, his first victory speech was filled with non-specific praise for himself and promises of looking over videos to see if he really won. Simply lovely.
But what does this all come down to? Is it a precursor to the fight we all want to see, the possibly record-breaking prizefight between Manny Pacquaio and Floyd Mayweather? The answer is a resounding “possibly”, and that’s said with love. Often people criticize professional wrestling because it is “fake”; while it is scripted, the whimsy and action throughout still provides a fun base for viewing and conversation, analysis and criticism. This is partly due to the fact that it is scripted. As a result, many people prefer the realness of boxing to the fakeness of professional wrestling.
Well call up a fat guy to cry in the stands, sweet science supporters, because you’re gonna need one to proclaim that it’s still real to you, dammit. It’s no question that politics play a role in the world of big time, multi-million dollar bouts, so I can’t lie and say that I’m completely in awe at the fact that the better fighter got screwed, but there’s backdoor politics and then there’s not even trying to cover it up. Yes, you need the perfect backdrop for the superbout I mentioned before. Does this help? We’ll see come November 10th, if Bradley still fools himself about being the victor. That’s all to say that you boxing fans have a LOT to explain about the scripted behavior of pro wrestling if you still want to actively criticize after that match. Boxing has a script to, everyone just isn’t aware.
Tonight we have TNA’s 10th anniversary PPV, something that was continually advertised after the fight along with a promo for the Urban Wrestling Federation. Can’t say I’m too excited but I will watch. Truth be told, that’s the true purpose of this little post. The Me Talking About Wrestling things are separate and thus unequal from the realm of PPVs. So don’t expect one for any PPV; I like to enjoy something I pay actual money for. Tomorrow, however, I may talk about some matches or the dreaded TNA Hall of Fame, and I’ll even resist the urge to make those Hall of Fame jokes and/or barbs crude and/or explicit. That being said, good night… er, good morning everybody.
Yes, I am the inescapable, the irresistible, the unnegotiable, the unchallenged (who dat?!)
– Yasiin Bey (formerly Mos Def); Hurricane
What up, everybody? It’s your boy DiZ, the Infamous One, aka Black Batman, aka Young Jon Lovitz Jr., aka H.R. Paperstacks, aka Ring King King, aka the Hand of Poseidon Almighty, aka D. Khushrenada, aka the Regular Immortal, aka Big Baby Hay Seuss, aka the Abstract Slickbacked Sideswipping Hero of Los Enigmas. Yes, even TNA gets the live review treatment, and I’ll even try to forget about that horseshit hall of fame nonsense and remain completely objective throughout.
Coincidentally, I offer this disclaimer: the second it gets too hard to watch this beautiful mess I’m talking about Rockstar Games and how stupid you, yes, YOU (ADRIAN!) are for thinking there will be a new Red Dead and Bully. That being said, let’s wait for the show!
And the wait is over. Previously on iMPACT, marital infidelity (very “Born Again”, TNA) and the pictures and audio clips to prove it (very NOT “McMahon’s family incest”, TNA). Help me, TNA people, what exactly IS going on in the world of TNA right now? I’m having a hard time understanding. Before you get all upset at me (any more, that is) know that I like the action in TNA. It’s the stories and continuity that make me wonder where Carter is getting that potent ganja from.
We’re still recapping and waiting for Dixie to make a statement. I’ll go out on a limb and say she reminds me of the wave of sexy Conservative women as of late; Palin, O’Donnell, uh… Palin. Governor of South Carolina too, she’s quite a looker. Not at all like those terrible games where… oh, Carter is out. Boos abound. Now chanting her name. Go on and cry, woman, you know you want to. You were slobbing down AJ (don’t worry, I wanna slob down an AJ too… the one on the other company, not TNA). I have a thing for crazy chicks too, they’re a blast to be around, with and otherwise.
Admission of truth on deck, then the appearance of Daniels and Kazarian, two athletes with better things to do than this. Where’s Scott Steiner when you need him? He’d add some fun to this with his ethnically challenged humor and questionable headpieces. In any case, I’m trying to determine just why there’s so much sexual innuendo in this company. At least in the WWE it was – or is – blatant. Having the woman in the corner on her ass, hounded by two dudes and begging, that’s all sorts of messed up. My psyche is screwed.
Ah, and AJ has just been clocked. I guess Carter’s husband is more mad at him than Dixie. Again, confused. Didn’t we get enough infidelity with the Angles and Jarrett? Hell, that was real. This is for entertainment purposes. But I’m not entertained. To quote Bender:
Of course when I say “we” I mean “me” and my various alter egos, especially the Regular Immortal, his face is priceless right now. Bottom lip all poked out, eyes squinty, afro dirty and loose. I don’t know where that crown he wears is but it’s somewhere lost in his hair. He should have moved by now; there’s pizza, Pepsi and… sorry, I got off topic. Not quite fifteen minutes into the show (technicality) and nothing of interest has happened outside of AJ getting punched and Dixie in what looked like a sexual assault situation. Blame the televisions that raised me for that point of view but hell, if you heard the sound of a zipper you would have nodded and said the same.
The show is back on, and we’re recapping. Since we started the show off with a recap I see this as wholly unnecessary, but at least we get to see Serge. Serge? Word? Like Beverly Hills Cop Serge? Serge Carter?
Whatever. Christie Hemme calls in the combatants for the first match with her sexy self, first “The Undefeated” Crimson (wasn’t Samoa Joe undefeated at one point too? Whatever happened to that…) and then the X Division Champion, Austin Aries. First impressions: a resounding “Hmm…” Austin Aries is one of this company’s best talents, and putting the scrappy underdog against the undefeated monster (and military vet) actually functions as a good move.
I’ve never really noticed before today, but Crimson has an interesting build for a big guy. He’s lanky, kind of like Spike Spiegel, but decidedly more rigid. Austin Aries is short and athletic, the kind of wrestler that wins world titles now. Honestly I want Crimson to win, but a hard fought win. At this point that’s exactly what it looks like is going to happen.
Crimson defeats Austin Aries
Samoa Joe comes out, interferes, looks like the poor man’s Bully Ray, and Crimson maintains his winning streak through Joe’s interference. Now a Samoa Joe/Austin Aries rivalry has potential. Crimson, on the other hand, sounds too cocky for his own good. Actually, his undefeated streak leaves much to be desired. Where’s his title belt? I know he was a tag champ once but a sixteen month undefeated streak warrants SOME title around his waist. That’s a waste of talent otherwise: he’s a king without a crown, and as far as I know he isn’t a Jewish emcee (bonus points to anyone who gets that reference).
I don’t know: Crimson is good, I like Crimson, but I don’t see what his purpose is right now outside of being a big, lanky war vet. That reminds me: where did Amazing Red go? He still in TNA? As unforgettable as a lot of their stuff is I would never know. Sorry, the urge to bash is hard to get over, I’ll be good now… so long as there’s no gratuitous display of mammary glands or female’s rear ends on my screen by the time the commercial go of… ah. Never mind.
Back to the show, Hogan (Brooke, not the good one) is talking to the Knockouts, those in the four-way (no joke… NO JOKE!) match later. Plenty of mammary glands and female rear ends… if I didn’t lust after Mickie James so much (it’s a Virginia thing; country cousins) I would find this to be a bit misogynistic.
No, VERY misogynistic…
No, a bit.
Hogan (Hulk, not the hooker-ish one) comes out, to tremendous love, applause and cheering. Curiosity has me right now. What does our GM want? When he gets to the ring finally I’m sure he’ll let us know. Any second now.
Any second… half an hour in we’ve only had one match…
WAIT! This is the ten year anniversary for iMPACT Wrestling? Oh my God… who, the hell, cares? All I’m taking from this right now is that the World Title will be defended next Thursday. Would that, I venture to wonder, cheapen the World Title match come Sunday at the PPV? I argue that that match was cheapened the second Sting was declared the new number one contender. Whatever happened to that recount chant? And why is Roode saying this is Hogan’s company? I don’t care if he IS the longest reigning World champion in TNA history, I say “WHO THE HELL CARES?!” again.
Look, pro wrestling is story and action combined into one finely tuned two or three hour program. There’s too much story right now; this is coming from a man who tells stories for a living. Bobby Roode wants respect. Check. Sting defends Hogan. Check. Sting is kind of superhuman now for some reason or the other. Check. Why are we more than half an hour in and there has only been ONE MATCH?!
Oh, T and A. Lovely. Commercials! I’ll be back; I’m going to get some root beer and a Granny Smith apple.
Apple and root beer on deck, ready for the wrasslin’! Well, first Penn. Hi Penn Jillette. Bye Penn Jillette. Now Christie Hemme introduces the Knockouts once more, sexy voice and all, first is my not-so secret crush Mickie James. Second, Velvet “What the hell are pigeons?!” Sky. Third, Miss Tessmacher. I remember her in the WWE, unlike everyone else. And finally, the incomparable Tara. Always have liked Lisa Varon. Terrific wrestler.
Now before you get too into this match, those of you watching the replay because you were busy living your life instead of watching wrestling on Thursday evening or you were at that Foreign Exchange concert you really wanted to go to but didn’t have the money for) I want to say this: it is a misnomer for you, specifically TNA marks, to say that TNA has a terrific women’s division (I think it’s pretty good myself) and focus more on the T and A than anything else. Go ahead, I’ll make you a bet. You watch an entire Knockouts match without a single catcall, penis joke or sexual mannerism and I will concede that the division is exceptional. As it stands there are plenty of talented women performing and put on great matches, but at the end of the day they come across as more athletic Divas. Hell, a lot of them ARE athletic Divas, just under a different brand. The Knockout champion Gail Kim, Mickie James, Miss Tessmacher (admittedly, she’s found her vibe in TNA), Tara, and the beat goes on (and the beat goes on (and the beat goes on)).
The match has an obvious focus on the one-on-one between Mickie James and whoever else is in the ring with her. Gail Kim is on commentary, a Knockout champion in the same vein as the reign of Bobby Roode, and it helps because honestly not every woman in this match is fun to watch. Mickie James, no question. Tara, yes indeed.
Okay, I’ll say it: why is Velvet Sky here…?
That’s all I’m saying about that. This match, to my surprise, hasn’t been too bad. It’s just been that the actual action has been carried by the two who, ironically enough, made their names elsewhere. I won’t comment on where that elsewhere is. While this match has been longer than the previous one, it had to be on the basis of the number of competitors (fishing for rationale here, folks). And now it’s over. Yep…
Miss Tessmacher defeats Mickie James, Tara and Velvet Sky
Promo segment backstage with Bully Ray. Pointless. Immediately we go into Matt Morgan’s accidentally funny Direct Auto Insurance commercial. Seeing a big guy try to act in that capacity is hilarious, in the same way Tommy Wiseau trying to do anything cinematically related is hilariously disappointing. Be back when the commercials go off again. Maybe hour two will have more excitement.
Hey, random tidbit: Tara’s theme in the WWE, back when she was Victoria, featured Nicki Minaj. Who knew?
So as we start the second hour of the live program we recap the beginning of the show, again. There’s a lot to be said of motif, but this is just pointless. We go backstage to Hogan, on his phone, talking to AJ Styles. Hogan was mad. And next, on The Young and the Restless, we have a contract signing, okay, what the flying fuck? The only joy I’ve gained so far, with the introduction of this “unbelievable” match, was someone in the audience screaming “WHAT?!” as our extra regular ass friend with the stuck-in-the-second-grade face described the first entrant to the ring: Bully Ray.
Credit where it’s due: Bully Ray is awesome. He’s a true heel, managed to successfully piss off dude in the dark yellow Polo shirt we keep cutting to, and actually does keep you entertained both in and out the ring. Now we bring out Penn Jillette again.
Hmm? Oh, that’s not Penn Jillette? Well who the hell is it?
An attorney, you say? Abyss in a suit and tie?
Jokes aside, I know what this story is but I’m only interested because I want to see Bully Ray and Abyss beat each other senseless. Everything else about it lacks sensibility.
You know, an hour ten into this program my head is still spinning from the fact that there have only been two matches. Don’t get it twisted, I would gladly get on ANY show about this, but if I wasn’t so confident of the violence that would ensue from this contract signing I would turn the channel and talk about the Red Dead and Bully franchises.
Oh, for the love of the god and gods you don’t believe in, Penn Jillette, sign the goddamn contract! THANK YOU!
Neat, it’s our old friend Abyss.
And it’s deathly quiet… THAT is power. If I say NOTHING else positive about TNA, the way it got COMPLETELY quiet just now is just magical. Touché. Touché, TNA. Fuck the fact that Bully Ray just beat up the master of prestidigitation, that was a magical moment!
We should have ended the show on that note. We have two matches left, I reckon, maybe three, but we should have ended the show on THAT note. Period. No more matches, no more promos, nothing else. THAT is how you make an impact, iMPACT. TAKE NOTES! You see what I’m doing? I’m praising you. I know this is a rare thing, you’re unfamiliar with the action, but it’s possible! Please, don’t do ANYTHING to fuck up this high that you’ve achieved.
And with the announcement of the Hall of Fame the high is dying. It’s worth noting that everyone of significance in that commercial was either from the WWE or is now, save for AJ Styles.
For the sake of you, reader, I’m going to spare you my feelings on the Gut Check thing. It makes sense but it’s poorly executed. Don’t blur the gimmicks and the realities unless you can do it properly.
Back to the action. Christie Hemme and that sexy frame of hers introduce the challenger, Robbie E, accompanied by Robbie T. Or do I have it backwards? These Jersey jerks always confuse me anyway. But who comes out next, accompanied by Young Bitch-Off himself, but the TV Champion (how many name changes has this title had?) Devon. The prize: the TV Championship. Remember how I said I wouldn’t question the racial elements behind Big Show beating up all the black people last RAW? Well I won’t question the racial elements of Devon being the only champion to have to continue defending his championship each Thursday. Not at all.
Goofy gimmick aside, Robbie E (or T) is putting up a convincing battle against the veteran Devon. It’s a common theme throughout this program, youthful indiscretion versus veteran experience, but it ended exactly how I figured it would: Devon wins. Or, officially:
Devon defeats Robbie E (or T)
The ensuing brawl was odd. Madison Rayne’s name being used was odd too. This wasn’t a filler match so much as a necessary evil because they didn’t want to call it filler. Yeah, I said it. Commercials again, and I’m bored. You know the latest rumor is that Rockstar Games is going to do sequels to Red Dead Redemption and Bully. I’m a big fan of both but neither seems feasible, the former due to chronology, the latter due to sociology. See, John Marston’s long road to redemption, fully equipped with horses and the musical stylings of Jose Gonzalez, took place in the early 1900s. The old west was already dying at the time; where would you take Jack Marston? The next logical step would be to venture into the Roarin’ Twenties era but that’s slowly creeping into L.A. Noire territory, even though that game took place in the late 1940s.
Alternatively you have Bully. We have kids hoping off of bridges to escape bullying right now, do we really want Rockstar to deal with that kind of heat? I’m just thinking out loud.
As we come back to commercials we have yet another recap, this time between the champion Roode and the challenger Sting. I already hate the match so I won’t talk about this anymore. Hogan (the good one, not the one with breasts) is back in the ring, to make the announcement none of us heard he was to make earlier, and now Mr. Kennedy, I mean Anderson, has come out. Why, I don’t know. He’s an asshole anyway; the microphone thing was cool at first but years later its novelty.
Also: someone screamed “Kennedy” earlier. I laughed. It was amusing.
What the hell, is Kennedy, I mean Anderson, supposed to be the Cena in this company? He even sounds like him. And kind of looks like him. I remember when bin Laden was declared dead, it was Anderson who did TNA’s announcement of it. Difference is Cena is fu… no, Cena isn’t funny. Anderson isn’t either.
Now RVD is in the ring. Now Jeff Hardy is being called to the ring. For shits and giggles, guess what the three wrestlers have in common. That’s right: they’re all on the bong! They ain’t smoking that ganja Dixie Carter must have but look at Jeff’s face and tell me it isn’t as potent.
To be perfectly honest I don’t like the concept of Jeff Hardy getting a world title match. He’s overrated to me, a man who knows how to fall with style. And with… Hogan, you okay? You sound very hoarse. Is that his real voice? He sounds like he’s straining. Someone give that man some water, he didn’t just drop that mic for effect, he’s screaming too much…
So a three-way (I’d make a gay joke, but we need to Eliminate the Hate) between Anderson, Van Dam and Jeff Hardy is set for the PPV. Winner goes against the winner of the Roode/Sting match, on Thursday. Does any of this make sense to you?
Really, it does? Then help me, because I’m the guy that’s managed to decipher some of the most complicated stories in Xenosaga, and this has me sucking my thumb like a paradoxical conundrum. Oh, where’s Vince Russo when you need him?!
Oh Lord, am I really wishing for the return of Vince Russo? This is not a good sign.
With fifteen minutes left we’re left to enjoy Christie Hemme’s undeniable sex appeal and hypnotic smile and flowing, fiery hair and… sorry, my mind wandered there. What I meant to say is that we’re left to “enjoy” this six-man tag match between Christopher Daniels, Kazarian and the World Heavyweight Champion Bobby Roode against Kurt Angle, AJ Styles and Sting. How did the Nostalgia Critic say it when he was criticizing The Room’s scene… ah, that’s right: “Recycled, retarded, rejected, next scene!”
Seriously, my hopes aren’t high for this match. It’s the equivalent of Super Smash Brothers, just taking your franchise players and throwing them into a match together for the sheer fun of it. This isn’t so much fun though. Kazarian and Daniels were almost immediately put into the Scorpion Death Lock and Ankle Lock, not necessarily respectively, they all look the same when they’re face down on the mat. We can start the where’s AJ chants now but since the main storyline has AJ and Dixie doing the boxspring boogie he’s busy pulling a John Witherspoon right now. You know, there was a woman at the job that had him… he had to reverse it… if you don’t follow Eddie Murphy or Mr. Witherspoon this might be wasted on you but I’m just saying Carter might be hiding something special in them jeans. I wouldn’t even assume this unless TNA was a hotbed for T and A.
The match is back and Daniels has the match in hand, taking on Sting. Again, talented men, Smash Brothers style match. If anything I see this as a chance for Daniels and Kazarian to shine. Sting and Angle are the truest definitions of vets; their role should be to put over younger guys. Daniels, Kazarian, Roode, Styles, they can benefit from their skill.
Three minutes left and Styles has reappeared. Don’t need an explanation (just check the front of his pants for a stain). The match becomes a minor spot fest and Sting beats Roode with the Death Lock.
Sting, Kurt Angle and AJ Styles defeat Bobby Roode, Christopher Daniels and Kazarian
And that, ladies and gentlemen, concludes iMPACT for this day, the seventh of June in 2012. Did I like the episode? You might be surprised to know I’m far from complaining.
Sure, the storylines are more and more nonsensical, and it comes across as entertaining in spite of the intent rather than because of it, but it was surprisingly consistent this evening. Stupidity abounds but it was entertaining stupidity, and much like The Room, that’s all you need to get a decent laugh in every now and then. On a scale of one to five, a three. Good night everybody; see you Monday for RAW (tomorrow I’ll be with family). Blee!