Alright here is the fire and brimstone conclusion. I'm getting the gang together with Bill "The Butcher" Cutting and we are gonna throw down with those potato eaters! Throw me..ME.. out of the club? Unacceptable. It's on. I'm gonna take your Lucky Charms and I'm flushing them down into the sewers you little annoying Leprechaun. Take your imaginary pot of gold with you too. It's like the lottery. I always see the rainbow but I've never seen that shining pot of gold. I have driven miles chasing you and I have determined that I have a better shot winning Powerball twice than I do of finding that damn gold. Speaking of gold I'm also bringing Al Swearengen (for you Deadwood fans) to my battle royal on Riverside. We will even get that kid playing that flute (bagpipes?) or whatever the hell they were playing in that fight scene in Gangs of New York. You can have Leo. That doesn't help you. I'm bringing Randy "Macho Man" Savage. Wrath.
As I'm assembling the gang for our showdown my mind drifts to the WWF (now I guess it's WWE). My favorite wrestlers were obviously Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant, but I was also a huge Ultimate Warrior, "Ravishing" Rick Rude, and "Mr. Perfect" fan. It's sad that a lot of these guys that I followed died of drug use. In the movie The Wrestler you can see why. These guys abused their bodies so much to please the crowds and sell the moves that they needed to dose up just to survive the aches and pains. It was medicinal and recreational I'm sure. After the rush of being in the ring before 30,000 people a night I imagine that it would be difficult to unwind at the end of the show, and also being alone and so far from family as they travel from show to show. What's appalling is that these guys don't get medical coverage. As much money as Vince McMahon has made he employs these guys as independent contractors. They have no insurance outside of the ring coverage for "work-related" injuries. The same thing is also going on in the UFC with Dana White. Another cocky bastard that has made millions on the backs of his star athletes. Once they are no longer usable they are discarded. We just remember them in hindsight: Ken Shamrock, Dan Severn, Kimo, Royce, Tito and pretty soon The Iceman. Just like we look back at Junkyard Dog, Ricky the Dragon Steamboat, and Jake "The Snake" Roberts. Greed.
My gang is now walking down E. Main. There are torches with us and that kid playing the pipes. We grip our weapons of choice and I realize now that we live in a culture now that doesn't allow for idol worship. We tear them down before they ever get there. We want "real" people on television. When they do attain idol status and falter we jump on them like a pack of wolves. No wonder some seem so camera shy. Are those cameras that TMZ films with or weapons? Sure, make better decisions, don't screw up and we won't get the story you can say. But, how many of us live with clean life resumes? Our lives are littered with mistakes and embarrassments that only a few or no one knows of. The price you pay for stardom and fame is envy. And envy is one hell of a powerful weapon. How would you like that one mistake to follow you the rest of your life? Look at Hugh Grant. Just google him and the first page you get has Divine Brown. Really? One mistake 15 years ago and guess what, it doesn't disappear. Let's be honest how many of us are rooting against Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton? Envy.
The music intensifies as we pick up our pace. I think of my relationships and my desires. What was real and what wasn't. Was I longing for someone else when I should have been loving someone else? In today's society is it even possible to be married 30, 40, or 50 years? When so many people can get out after 1 or 2 so easily? Why commit to fix a problem when there are so many temptations out there that can distract us from it? When we believe someone online, hidden thousands of miles away truly knows us, does it just mean they just listen? When television tells us this is love and it happens in 30 days and we fall for it? Because they have a beautiful body, smile, a rose, and a television host? Lust.
We walk past people now assembling outside of their houses. Word has gotten out that we were heading for a throw down. Families standing in their front yards watching us march to battle. I think about the world we live in. The food we consume and the mass quantities. We are over-indulged. While countries starve we super size. I am as guilty of this as the next person. I take the easy road and I am lazy. When I do cook I use way too much and throw away too much. I rarely save left overs. When I am out of food at the house instead of making the smart decision to stock up on things I buy for the now. I feel the weight of my unhealthy eating habits as my stomach turns as we press on. Gluttony.
I am writer who talks a big game. My next novel, screenplay, blah blah blah, etc etc. I will wake up at 6am and write every morning. I will finish this in 6 months, 1 year, etc. But I use my mind to surf TMZ and watch The Bachelor or Dancing with The Stars. I have a house full of incredible novels that I do not read. My mind turns to mush and I'm force fed my cravings and desires by the mass market media machine of Madison Avenue. Tell me what I want? Tell me who I am? When I don't get the desired response, I just flip the channel. Sloth.
We are here. My men are lined up. The leprechaun bastards are lined up as well. We stare each other down. I realize now how foolish I am. This is going on because they kicked me out of the bar? I was so proud that I couldn't realize I probably was way too drunk and they should have cut me off to begin with. Instead of rationalizing I got in defense mode. And now we are about to throw down and who knows if we are walking out of here alive. How did this get so out of hand? I want to stop but Bill "The Butcher" and Al Swearengen are gung ho for a fight. They charge and all hell has broken loose. Randy "Macho Man" Savage is now jumping off a car with his trademark elbow drop. I stand still as this all takes place around me. Everything slows down and I realize that my weapons are already inside of me. The only person they are attacking is myself, I am the one at battle and I am losing. Pride.
No comments:
Post a Comment