The Wrestling home of Moondog Manson

I’m pretty notorious for disappearing at a moment’s notice and taking couple weeks off.

Just like last week.

Well, last week (an this week, come to think of it), I was actually working on an assignment. Important stuff, this college business – can’t skip it as easily as a weekly column. But truthfully? In all honesty? I could’ve found the time to write a column if I’d wanted to.

I just didn’t want to.

I was feeling bitter about a lot of wrestling-related things. Of course, I was bummed at the complete disinterest on the part of the writing team in creating anything resembling a compelling product. After a pretty hot RAW, what? They build one of the biggest programmes in history in Hogan/Rock, RIGHT BEFORE ROCK HAS TO GO TO ASIA. So they can’t even build that. So then they throw out some lame shit with Austin. A NET GUN? Bitch please. But y’know, after watching the WWF for so many years, and having witnessed them turn 24 carat gold into 24 pounds of horse shit with every sure-fire angle the last twelve or so months, I could look past that.

I could even look past the WWF’s arrogance in almost doubling their live shows. Sure, I appreciate that they have an absolutely enormous roster right now, but c’mon – they’re running double shots on RAW NIGHTS. They can barely sell out their shows as it is – selling out the SkyDome doesn’t mean shit for house show business, because it’s an INTERNATIONAL MARKET. So the answer, surely, would be to expand internationally, which in fairness they are doing: more than doubling their UK shows, running shows in Germany, Asia, and even a 60,000 seater in Australia. Which all sell great, artificially boosting the Fed’s confidence in the popularity of their own product. Yes, they can sell out ANYWHERE they book internationally, but domestically? Again Stephanie, bitch pleeeease. And don’t even get me started on the decision not only to add another PPV each year, but to jack up PPV prices AS WELL?

Still, that’s just the way the WWF works – I can get over that. Besides, there’s all these great alternative products to choose from now, right? I mean, even if we’re not near any good indie shows, we can order something like the WWA PPV, the only real alternative to the WWF, right? That should cure the dissatisfaction with the stale wrestling product, right? WRONG. Hardcore midgets? Twelve-way cruiserweight matches? Workers no-showing? JEFF FUCKING JARRETT VERSUS GRANDMASTER REHAB? Way to go, Jeremy – that booking worked so well for WCW, it MUST be the way to launch a new promotion. If you want to know what NOT to do, all you gotta do is pay these guys a hard twenty and they’ll show you.

But no – I could somehow manage to swallow hard and look past all that. But there was one thing, one person, one place, that I simply could not take any more of.

Rob Black and XPW.

If you have somehow managed to avoid hearing about this, I won’t bore you with it here. Christ knows, enough trouble has been caused already. Suffice it to say, this is a man who has TWICE very nearly killed two of his employees at live events through chronically inept medical provisions and lack of training. What happened with Vic Grimes was an absolute travesty. But y’know what? Vic Grimes is a grown man, Trent Acid is a grown man – in fact, ALL wrestlers are grown men, and if they’re too fucking stupid, that’s their own fucking business. And besides, it’s XPW – you expect shit like that to happen.

It was the thing with the dog that just made me say “that’s it – I think I’ve had enough.”

You don’t have to be an “animal lover” to understand how wrong that was. And you don’t have to be a “rocket scientist” to see through Black’s bullshit a mile away. But for me, that really soured me on something I already felt pretty sour about: The state of the wrestling business.

I’ve had the same feeling before. I’ve had the same rants before. Hell, if you’ve been following me for the two years or so I’ve had this bit of internet juice, you’ll probably have read them. And after one awesome RAW or Smack!Down, or if Mania actually stuns us all and manages to not be a total piece of crap, I may very well change my tune and be all “hey, wrestling’s SO GREAT!”.

But right now, fuck wrestling – I’m not interested.

Yeah, I hit all the sites every day to stay up on news. And yeah, I look at the blank Word document from which I’m supposed to create a coherent column for you guys who are so kind as to hit the site every week just to see what I’ve got to say. I thank you for that, I really do – it means a great deal for me just to receive one email that says “thanks Jay – I really enjoyed what you wrote this week.” You guys are what keeps me going, because right now, quite frankly, what I’m supposed to be writing about sure as hell isn’t.

I don’t want to say I’m taking a break until after WrestleMania, because Lord knows next week I might get really good sex over the weekend and start talking like DDP. All I’m saying is, if I don’t appear for the next couple of weeks, or if what I write seems kind of lame (well, even lamer than usual), I wanted you to know why. Christ, I’m coming off like Sean Shannon… I dunno, it’s not like I’m abandoning wrestling, or the internet, or you guys – I love all of those things, and they’re a big part of my life. I’m just at that saturation point right now where I’m like “fuck RAW this week – I think I’ll take my girlfriend out for a drink instead.” So if there’s nothing here from me until WrestleMania week, you know why.

No afterthoughts this week – as I said, my heart just isn’t in it right now.
I truly hope by this time next week, I’ll have found the fire that was put out last week. And I sure as hell hope they give me reason to find it by the time Mania rolls around, but even if they don’t, I’m sure I’ll feel incentive enough to mouth off on the WWF again. I must confess, lately it’s become a guilty pleasure of mine. See what happens to us when we don’t have a WCW to bash any more?

Drop me an email if you like, and do check back next week – I may very well be here. If not, I’ll see you at Mania.

Peace.
J$