Haywired:
Blog Entry: 4th July 2008
Independence day. Two words that encapsulate everything good and pure about this nation. No matter how much the bastards in the oval office fragment the cause of freedom, they can’t remove its cornerstone from our history. This nations foundations are built upon secession from convention; born in uprising and anarchy. Inside us all is a voice hard-wired into our psyche that yells “fuck you�?at the nearest mention of control; occasionally the strong amongst us listen to that voice, true Americans, who rise up demanding to be heard. Bill Hicks had it all right. Counterculture is American Culture. Ken Kelsey, the author of, “One flew over the cuckoo's nest�?once said that there is only two forms of true American art; Jazz and professional wrestling. Yeah, he might have something there, after all, this is a nation brought up on a diet of expression and violence, so it seems fitting to refine such concepts until they reach there logical conclusion. It’s an ongoing struggle, occasionally the medium I live for takes that evolutionary jump, but with it we have to be watchful of what we leave behind. Which brings us to today and a day in San Antonio none of us will likely forget; today we celebrate the birth of a nation, but also the fall of independence, W2K; the paragon of the alternative is falling into line, and I for one cannot help but feel unease about this. Jerms little empire dies and is reborn because of it’s unique ability to sidestep the politics of a mainstream company; no matter what happens, W2K exists to satisfy an obsessive love of the game. Balancing the books has never been this company’s forte; periodically reinventing the art form however is another story.
A cycle which begins again this Friday night as I take on Nic E dangerous and Sef Kinsley. What I wonder will be the outcome? A victory in a handy cap match against the preeminent faction on the MSN circuit? It would certainly be a feather in my cap that’s for sure. Another stab in the heart of Christian Michaels and his pseudo PWT; a merry band of misplaced miscreants, sullying the name of a once respected company; turning it into a gimmick, a story line; casting adrift any sense of reverence and respect for a unique world they used to inhabit and take pride in. How quickly the past becomes a cheap commodity in the hands of those without a true sense of place.
Until of course, the past turn round and kicks you in the ass.
Father McMillion may approve of CM’s actions but this wayward son of Texas does not. Michaels thinks that he can manipulate the situation to fit his needs, as he’s always done. He sees himself as the great illusionist, able to pull the wool over our eyes, breaking out an old standard to dismantle the competition with a deft hand towards the Machiavellian. Twirling his stuck on mustache as the good name of W2K lies tied to the railroad tracks, but he is sadly mistaken. PWT made him soft, the man is out of step with the world he now slums in. We’re beyond his games in oh so many ways. It’s as if he’s standing still as the rest of W2K watching on in abject curiosity, curious to see if the dinosaur can stagger just a little further on before succumbing to decrepitude. There’s a good reason for Michaels naïvety when you think about it, it’s because he belongs nowhere; a destitute man caught between worlds. Poor CM cannot comprehend the notion that his long in the tooth plans are transparent for all to see. We have to pity Michaels really; there he sits in his dressing room, anxious to execute his perfect plan of division and domination, the oldest play in the book, all dressed up in shinny new red neck clothes. Yet all we can do is yawn as he plays out that age old tactic of aiming two opposing forces against each other. Haywire and TX. Actually, scrap TX since it’s me who has proven, time and again, to be Michael’s superior inside the squared circle. This handicap match is the last line of desperation from a man who’s struggling to escape his newfound refugee status. A bum playacting as a man. He sees Myself, he sees Ryan Cain and NED and he realizes he has no place here.
This Friday I’ll once again prove why I stand alone. Because in this game? I’m unrivalled.
Your all just caught in my shadow.
Tyler.
Free Forum Hosting
Important Announcement
First 