Since the dawn of made-up time, when Cain fought Abel, and since the dawn of real-life time, when caveman brother fought caveman brother for that last morsel of dingo kidney, mankind has settled disputes with force. Back in the day, it was club vs. bone. Today, it’s Predator drone vs. club. Either way, as a species, we’re always at each other’s throats.
“They thought I said ‘hell.’ I distinctly said, ‘Unleash shell’!”
Which is kind of the point this week. The ancient Romans may not have invented gladiatorial combat, but they did bring it into its modern form, and with that, its modern symbolism.
“We’ve got a great new Christian Disposal System we’ve just installed.”
And by symbolism, I mean that it is the SPECTACLE of violence that we gather to witness, so that we effectively release that primal need wired into each and every one of us through a viewing of virtual and/or real violence. I read all that somewhere; it was either MAD Magazine or the philosopher Roland Barthes. Oh, yeah - it was Barthes. (Definitely click on that. The first few paragraphs sound much smarter than me, and clarify what I’m getting at here…)
In our enlightened day and age, this “primal release” takes on many forms:
Viewing all of these things allow us to live more civilized lives.
We may say we want to kill our boss, but instead of actually carrying out the deed, all of our pent-up rage and hatred towards our boss is released when we see Stone Cold Steve Austin flip off HIS boss, Vince McMahon, and give him a patented Stone Cold Stunner through a table. Our violent demons are exorcised. I read all that somewhere; it was either Roland Barthes or WWE Magazine. Oh, yeah – it was WWE Magazine.
Romans may have felt, from time to time, like going on a Christian and/or prisoner killing rampage. Wrestling fans may have felt like going out to kill Russians, or gays, or gay Russians, or whoever was the heel that week.
"Mix well for maximum effect."
But the shared public spectacle of watching justice be served, so to speak, allowed those same Romans to settle down, return peaceably to the public baths, have crazy orgiastic public sex, then gorge and vomit all night. So there was that.
Anyway, Fight! Fight! Fight! It’s all about Fights this week, y’all. Combat, it’s forms throughout history, and our modern interpretations that we have today. And also, you can describe how you felt like killing that shithead Steve Anneese after he clotheslined you from behind in the hallway after lunch because he was pissed that you took his seat in the lunchroom that day (applies to HandsomeStan only – JSP, you were there). God, I wanted to kill that fucker. Good thing Demolition was on TV that night.
So this week is also about A) fights you’ve been in, B) wanted to be in, C) wanted no part of, D) enjoyed watching (movie fights et al), and E) any other conflict (physical, verbal or mental) that you’ve gone through.
Truth be told, there's somewhat of a grading curve this week. The more haikus about professional wrestling (in particular 80s WWF wrestling), the happier I'll be. And feel free to bash it as the dumbest thing ever visited upon society; I gladly embrace dissenting viewpoints. I would have made this the sole topic, but all that drivel at the top is my attempt to broaden it out and make this sound like a more sophisticated topic than it really is. And to hopefully not have the women click away in disgust, which probably happened four paragraphs ago.
Anyway, Fight! Fight! Fight!
(Oh, and Surprise! Thanks, JSP!)
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