SirSmUgly

I know nothing about Ohio. It just sounded like a ritzy suburb name when I was a kid that fit their gimmick of spoiled prissy types, and later on when I found out that it was in fact a well-off suburb of Cleveland, it made sense. I thought the Beverlys were more of a "upper-class poshness is unmanly" gimmick than a gay gimmick, but I could be wrong. Though I guess that really, their gimmick hit both of those ideas, the whole backwards "being educated is gay" cultural belief that blends homophobia with good old American anti-intellectualism. A modern version of the Bevs' gimmick would cast them as college-educated soyboy liberals. Maybe they'd swap out the Genius for a woman playing basically Tammy Sytch's character in Smoky Mountain.

That was sort of the deal with the prissy Beverly Brothers, who were announced from Shaker Heights, OH rather than Cleveland, OH.

It would be fun to list off angles from last millennium that wouldn't be plausible today because of tech updates, Seinfeld-style. Or alternately, it would be fun to list angles that would be even better because of tech updates. Can you imagine how awesome the Shawn Michaels concussion angle would have been if someone used their phone to capture footage of him getting his ass beat and then posted it on World Star?

I should see if Archive.org needs any scans of the EGM and GamePro issues that I have bought since I started collecting these last year. I don't need another reason to visit a retro game store, but now I've got "I can scan and upload it for preservation" as one, too.

I don't read digital books. Hell, I am spending money on old magazines that I could just read on my pad via scans uploaded to archive.org. In fact, digital media didn't kill physical book sales, which I believe, like vinyl, is making a resurgence. Nintendo being the sole console company offering physical media has them extremely well-positioned into the future. I look at the PS6 and think to myself that I might as well just upgrade my PC. The only advantage PS6 will have is that you don't have to toggle with settings, really. I suppose "easier to hook up to living room TV" is another. Otherwise, I might as well game on PC. I do think that video games will, like books and music, settle into a place where physical media will thrive alongside digital media.

Were you not entertained by that Senegalese bottle job? 😭 On another note, the next time I complain about PL refs, I will recall the refereeing in this cup and shut my mouth.

Some fans get tangled deep into the history and branch out. Some don't. Both are valid forms of fandom. I've watched far more of Bock in the past few years than anyone who is currently appearing on television in the U.S. (maybe with the exception of the still-active LU guys). It's cool. Wrestling is broad and vast and wonderful and you get to choose how you approach it.

A large chunk of those digital sales are also back catalog re-releases that are digital only. The ratio for digital to physical for new releases is not as high. I have seen the number recently and need to find that source.

Yeah, that seems like a rare good Hauser tweet. Cornette is a scumbag with his unnecessary insults toward that Rook fellow, so this is a case where one too-online weirdo definitely had a better outlook than the other too-online weirdo. Hauser is still generally terrible, though.

That dude is a successful, Emmy-nominated actor and is still a too-online weirdo who really embodies the "wrestling fans are weirdos" trope. I don't know what he tweeted, but I've seen enough of his past tweets to guess that it was slightly embarrassing.

The Brazilian government apparently leaking an upcoming (presumably 2D) Metroid with the subtitle "Ravenous" was a good thing not on my bingo card for today.

If the U.S. consumer had more rights around digital purchases as EU consumers do, I'd be more okay with it.

Feels like video games are really jumping the shark. I don't do much PC gaming because of the lack of physical options. Now I'm going to be down to Nintendo for new consoles (assuming Microsoft follows along with Sony). At least I can spend more time and money with retro stuff.

Chris Kanyon and Ryan Clark, Wrestling Reality: The Life and Mind of Chris Kanyon, Wrestling's Gay Superstar - The central thesis of this book that seems to come through is that living a closeted life is incredibly harmful to your psychological makeup and mental health (seems obvious) and that the pro wrestling business is built to break the people who come through it (seems obvious), so mashing the two together makes for a treacherous life's path. Pat Patterson making it out okay (from that specific perspective, at least) is more remarkable after reading this book. It's a downer book, obviously. Kanyon started out struggling with his identity as a kid, and the compounding struggle intersects with a myriad of concussions, drug abuse, and overwork. Obviously, it's impossible to say what might have happened if Kanyon had been fulfilled enough to keep working in physical therapy full time, but I don't think there's any question that he stood a much better chance of surviving. In the final chapter, which is meant to be a "so what have I learned and what's next for me" type of chapter, he talks about not being able to get out of bed and consistently experiencing suicidal ideation. The chapter after that is his co-writer eulogizing him. Rough stuff. But yes, @twiztor, I'd say this book is a good read for any wrestling fan and a must-read for any Kanyon fan specifically. Kanyon has some absolutely wild stories, some of which I wondered if he was working me. He tells a story about his teenaged self running into Jim Herd sitting in the stands at the Meadowlands and being used as a one-person focus group, and then he follows that up with a story about sneaking backstage at WrestleMania VII. And that's before he gets into the business, goes through four trainers/wrestling schools, works for Smoky Mountain, the WWF, ECW, and Memphis underneath, and then finally works his way into a full-time WCW position. I didn't know that he and Billy Kidman knew one another for as long as they did, for example. He's got some incredible stories, including one story about accidentally cutting a promo on Macho Man in character when he should have actually been talking more like his shoot self about Mach and the fallout of unknowingly almost hurting Mach's Slim Jim deal. I think the most fascinating story involves Eric Bischoff starting to use Kanyon as a talent scout and trainer for WCW's Hollywood projects after his runs as Mortis and with the Flock. The poor guy is out of his depth trying to attend to all these different projects when he just wants to be wrestling and climbing the card, and he tells a series of wild stories (including one where he accidentally gets short-term addicted to GHB because of Disco Fucking Inferno) about all of that. Actually, there's a lot of stuff he skips over in his WCW run - Vince Russo is not mentioned even once, I don't think - and he could have talked even more about that stuff. I was in on his thoughts on whatever else he did while in that company. Of course, he also discusses his fucked-up WWFE run and his Stern spot with Ric Flair being a shithead in support of Vince and WWFE, and by the end of the book, he's not only talking about his poor mental state, but his feeling that he couldn't just go back into physical therapy. He certainly sounds completely lost by the end of this book. It's the classic "earnest person wants to be a star and gets used up and tossed aside by show business," specifically the pro wrestling version of that story. Anyway, I'm glad I read this book. And no, I'm not going back to get that Russo book and read it too, though this new Russo book where he's probably going to shit on Bischoff and Hogan running TNA as what I'd guess is a direct response to Guy Evans taking time out from talking about WCW in Beyond Nitro to shit on Russo at Bischoff's directive does seem kinda tempting to me.

Michaels tried to be cute in that last clip: "[Diesel] looks like the Cowardly Lion, but when he faces the Heartbreak Kid, I'm gonna send him back to OZ!" Okay, buddy. Vince HYUCK HYUCKing his way through a bad King's Court segment while Shawn makes silly insider-y comments right next to him is pretty much a preview of the general quality of WWF's upcoming 1995. Not looking forward to watching the Big Five from that year!

WWF Summerslam ‘94 (29 August 1994): A show in which the mid-'90s WWF malaise is firmly established This is an appropriate show to post next because it is almost SUMMER which means more time to write about WRESTLING, and I am EXCITED, and after this review and the next one (about Survivor Series ’94), I am going to watch some ECW and some WCW and some older WWF (though not in that order necessarily), and I am HYPED about that. But should I be hyped about this show? Other people at DVDVR who have reviewed this sucker seem to have enjoyed it well enough, so that’s a promising sign [Editor's note: BigENOTME.gif] Gab Gab Gab: Macho Man Randy Savage isn’t long for this company, and part of that is because he’s out here introducing the show and hyping the New Generation of which Vince McMahon has seemingly made it clear that he is not a part. Savage daps up the returning Davey Boy Smith, who is sitting in the front row. Our host for the night introduces us to the Vince McMahon/Jerry Lawler commentary team. Bummer. I guess Jim Ross has been let go again. Fuck, man, these shows are going to get a lot more generally enjoyable when Ross finally takes over as the bolted-on lead PBP, but I already watched and reviewed the 1998 shows, which is about the year that this finally happens, so basically I've only got full-time PBP Ross to nurse me through these 1999 – 2001 Big Five PPVs. This is also a show at the then-brand new United Center in Chicago, which is going to end up being the site for a lot of hot WCW shows during the Nitro era, so much like Savage will, it’s about to be associated with a competing company for the next few years after this show. Anyway, Lawler informs us that Shawn Michaels and Diesel knocked off the Headshrinkers the previous night in Indianapolis, which means that Diesel is a double-champion…but only for now, as he’s got to defend his Intercontinental Championship against former champ Razor Ramon tonight. Owen Hart also gets his shot at Bret Hart’s WWF World Championship tonight in a cage match that I’m interested in seeing again. I haven’t seen it in such a long time, but as a kid, I remember thinking that it ruled even considering the WWF’s less-engaging cage match style. Lawler seems to think that Bulldog is here to screw over the Hitman, which isn’t a bad guess considering everyone else in Bret’s family seems to be in on that game – in kayfabe, mind you; I’m not speaking to real life here other than totally accidentally. And it’s a match that I was hyped as fuck for as a kid – the Undertaker returns after eight months off of WWF television to face…the Undertaker?! Match: But before the Undertaker and the Underfaker face off, Ted DiBiase leads I.R.S. and Bam Bam Bigelow into the ring. Oh boy, the Million Dollar Corporation has got to be one of the worst stables of all time based on this equation: (how long they were around) x (how interminably boring most of their matches and feuds were). The Headshrinkers (w/Captain Lou Albano and Afa) are facing Shyster and Bammer, the latter of whom I am not the biggest fan of, but who also deserves far better than being stuck in the midcard mire as part of a stable with heel Tatanka, I.R.S., King Kong Bundy, and Nikolai Volkoff. It’s really too bad Bam Bam didn’t end up in WCW in 1993, where he and Vader could have killed some dudes in tags when they weren’t going after the World and U.S. Championships as singles. I love the Hitman, but Sting/Bam Bam sounds like a much better matchup than Hitman/Bam Bam in 1993/1994 from a stylistic perspective. Bam Bam and Fatu come out here and run at one another like a couple of cruiserweights as they counter and counter and counter again, hitting leaping hook kicks and lariats and whiffing on top-rope headbutts and stuff. The Headshrinkers are pretty awesome – shut up McMahon, your jokes stink – sorry about that, Vince is making bad jokes on commentary. As I was saying, the Headshrinkers are pretty awesome, as everyone knows, and the level of talent in the ring makes I.R.S. step up his game, as he tags in and then crashes and burns on a crossbody attempt when Samu steps out of the way. He flings himself to the floor, where Fatu introduces his noggin to the ring steps before tossing him back in the ring to kick out at two of a Samu lateral press. This is a good opener so far. Bammer yanks the top rope down as Fatu hits the cables, then assaults Fatu on the floor, including by bashing his head into Shyster’s suitcase. This marks the transition into Fatu as face in peril…no, wait, Bam Bam tags in and they run the ropes and smash into each other, so Fatu's in very little peril. He makes a hot tag to Samu, who destroys the heels with headbutts and clubbering. A Samu second-rope diving headbutt gets two on Shyster before Bam Bam breaks it up; Samu sends Bammer to the floor before he and Fatu combine on a front Russian leg sweep and a Fatu top rope splash. That should end it, but DiBiase draws the ref’s attention. Bam Bam yanks Samu to the floor, breaks up the pinfall, and clocks Albano when Albano climbs onto the apron to protest. Afa hops in the ring and throws fists at Bam Bam as the ref turns around, sees complete chaos, and calls for the bell. Afa and the Headshrinkers triple headbutt Bam Bam; DiBiase scurries away in fear as the teams brawl to the back. Finkel announces that Bammer and Shyster win by DQ since the ref only turned around in time to see Afa hop in there and attack Bam Bam. That was the best possible I.R.S. match in 1994. It wasn’t good enough to make a good list (too short, wonky finish), but it does at least have that distinction. Gab Gab Gab: In order to find out what happened to the Undertaker after he *ahem* raised himself from the dead like the Lord Jesus *ahem*, the WWF has put Leslie Nielsen on the case. Not Frank Drebin, the bungling detective that Leslie Nielsen portrayed in Police Squad! and the Naked Gun films. No, this is Leslie Nielsen, the longtime Hollywood actor who would presumably know even less than Drebin about how to perform an investigation. Anyway, those Naked Gun films haven’t aged particularly well (and the recent reboot was godawful, as an aside), and this segment replicates those films' typical gag-a-second comedy. Also George Kennedy shows up, but he’s not playing his character from the Naked Gun, either. I don’t know, man. I don’t know. I don’t much enjoy any of this, but I’m glad Canada’s second-finest Hollywood comedic actor of all time (Catherine O’Hara is first, Rick Moranis is third) is getting a payday here. Match: It sometimes feels hard to tell what to think of Madusa/Alundra Blayze as a worker, but she’s shown enough to me that I think she’d have had a much better career if she started in pro wrestling thirty years later or was able to spend extensive time in Japan. She legitimately has one of the best sell jobs I’ve seen with her selling of her injured leg against Akira Hokuto at the 1997 Great American Bash. And these WWF matches against Bull Nakano (here w/Luna Vachon) also hint that she could have had a stronger array of matches than she did. I mean, you can’t take away from Hokuto or Nakano because they’re great workers (and Nakano honestly might make a top twenty all-time for me just based on what I’ve seen from her), but they’re not carrying Blayze like she’s some kind of worthless load. This should indicate that I have fairly high expectations for this WWF Women’s Championship bout. They bring in flower girls to hand bouquets to the ladies; Luna seizes Bull’s flowers and bats Blayze in the head with them, then runs away in what I think is some very funny heeling. As the mach starts, Bull fakes a handshake and throws a kick, and then these ladies start working at high speed. Bull quickly slows things down by sidestepping a dropkick and then using hair beals to sling Blayze around. Blayze fighting up from underneath against Bull is good times, but Bull goes to a chinlock too early for my tastes. Seriously, we just started this match! Blayze at least works toward the ropes and makes the hold look like it actually might hurt. The single-celled organisms in the crowd start a typical U-S-A chant. This does fire Blayze up, who makes a comeback that is squelched when she tries one too many roundhouse kicks and gets two-handed chokeslammed. Bull locks on a somewhat crappy-looking Boston Crab. I don’t know about this match. I’m enjoying Blayze’s attempts to work out of these holds and get to the ropes, though. She’s throwing desperate elbows and barely inching toward them. Bull next tries a double-underhook surfboard. I suppose that the narrative throughline of this match is to have Bull try to submit Blayze in interesting and varied ways, and Blayze’s work selling these holds is the star of this show. Luna Vachon gets a cheap shot in behind the ref’s back, but Blayze still manages a flash schoolgirl for two; when Bull kicks out, she transitions into a cross-arm breaker that Blayze has to work out of. The champ manages to turn Bull and get a flash pinfall. Then eventually work to her feet and hit a series of hair-assisted neckbreakers for two. Blayze goes full “dumb babyface” and tries a powerbomb, but can’t complete it; Bull reverses, slams Blayze for two before Blayze Matrixes out of the lateral cover, and re-establishes order with a lariat. This is a solid finishing run in which Blayze tries to run rings around Bull and Bull stuffs her with power counters until the point at which Bull goes up top for a killer guillotine legdrop. That move misses; Blayze rolls out of the way, kicks Luna off the apron, and catches Bull with a bridging German for three. There was an episode of 83 Weeks in which Eric Bischoff offhandedly said that Blayze wasn’t as good as she thought she was. Might I suggest that maybe Blayze should have thought somewhat highly of herself and that Bisch is a mediocre judge of talent? This match was underwhelming (if perfectly fine), but Blayze’s selling and fired-up comebacks were definitely not the reason why. These two would have better confrontations in the future, probably because of more interesting and dynamic match layouts more than because of any personal limitations. Interview time [w/Todd Pettengill]: Shawn Michaels and Diesel crow about how awesome they are now that they’ve won the tag titles. Well, Shawn crows about that. Diesel doesn’t say anything until he proclaims himself Midas (everything he touches turns to gold) and then yells at his future fellow Outsider and title opponent for tonight about how no one is beating him for the Intercontinental Championship. HBK also has some threats for Walter Payton, who will be seconding Razor Ramon here in Chicago. Match: That WWF Intercontinental Championship bout is next, pitting champ Diesel (w/limelight-stealing Shawn Michaels and that annoying insistent truck horn of an entrance theme) against Razor Ramon (w/Sweetness himself, wording that is also used by Howard Finkel in his introduction of Payton). Shawn hops in front of Diesel and dances around like he’s the double-champ. Could this pathological need to be the center of attention cause the downfall of HBK’s kayfabe friendship with his six-eleven trucker buddy? That question’s rhetorical, by the way. This Razor Ramon shirt Payton is wearing is ugly as sin. Razor’s face is offset and all there is too much text (R A Z O R down one side and Oozing Machismo written in different font and within a big rectangle above the top-half of Razor’s head). Also, this shitty yellow-and-white color pattern is aesthetically repelling. Who designed this garbage? Does a good Razor Ramon shirt exist? I presume that by now, someone on Tee Republic has made for sale a simple print t-shirt with Razor’s logo in the middle like a sane person. Razor toothpicks Diesel and then punches the shit out of him; Nash bumps through the ropes and to the floor, then recovers as Shawn gives him a pep talk. Said pep talk didn’t say anything about clubbering, but Nash apparently got that message because that’s what he does as soon as he re-enters the ring, specifically targeting Razor’s lower back, which in kayfabe not only has the purpose of softening it up for maximum damage on a Jackknife, but which also makes it harder for Razor to lift Diesel into a Razor’s Edge. Razor fires up in between attacks; Shawn gets in there and yanks Razor’s hair out of the ref’s view to set up Payton’s intervention later. Razor’s trunks are a sign that he’s going to win because they are black-and-silver, and the razorblade designs are a glossy gold. I mean, you don’t get trunks commissioned like that unless you’re sure you’re going to win. Did Hall ever wear these again? Oh, yeah, Razor backdrops his way out of a sleeper to the relieved cheers of the crowd, but Diesel sidesteps his follow-up charge and flings him to the floor. Sweetness checks on Razor while HBK unties the pad over the top turnbuckle nearest to him, which calls back to how Diesel beat Razor for the title in the first place and how Diesel tried to beat Bret Hart for the world title at the previous King of the Ring. Michaels does that and then rushes over and baits Payton into stalking him so that the ref will intervene; once the ref does, Michaels turns and rushes toward the steps, then springboards off them to land a lariat while the ref only has eyes for Payton. Michaels is centering himself even more in this match than he did in the Diesel/Hitman world title match, in fact. He’s got all the best spots in this thing. In both kayfabe and as a shoot, Michaels steals the show, and no, I don’t mean that as a compliment. Stop stealing the show from your buddy Nash, dude. I get that Michaels is the pesky second here, but does he need his interference to be so dynamic and so focused on popping the crowd? Ref Earl Hebner notices the uncovered buckle and blocks its use with his body, but HBK draws his attention; Diesel takes the opportunity to shoot Razor into that uncovered buckle and then hit a side slam for a close two count. Diesel lands Snake Eyes into a covered buckle, then chokes Razorand hits a sit out splash as Shawn holds Razor in place by his hair. This is a decent match in the ring, I’d say. Diesel’s focus on Razor’s lower back is effective, and Razor is out here firing up like an ‘80s babyface before running into some big man offense and having to fight up again. Diesel tries a leveraged abdominal stretch (and in one funny spot, when Hebner runs over and questions him about it, he shows Hebner his free hand and then uses it to point Hebner back into position to call Razor’s submission). Eventually, the big man finally gets caught cheating, and Razor manages his own abdominal stretch for about two seconds before Diesel hip tosses his way out of it. Diesel grabs Razor and hoists him up for another Snake Eyes, this time into the uncovered buckle, but Razor slips out of the back and shoves Diesel forward into the buckle, then schoolboys him for about 2.8. Diesel is up first, but Razor counters a duck down with a kneelift and then fires off with big right hands. Razor posts Diesel after ducking an attempted-counter big boot, then scores a top-rope diving bulldog for 2.85 – the fans thought that was it – and a big body slam for two more. HBK jumps on the apron and takes a punch along with his huge guardrail bump because LOOK AT MEEEEEEEEEEEEE, but Diesel struggles to take advantage of the distraction. He does elbow his way out of a super back suplex, though, and calls for a Jackknife that Hall back body drops out of. Razor calls for a Razor’s Edge, but Shawn distracts him for long enough that Diesel can get the jump. However, when Shawn tries to use the IC title itself on Nash, Payton grabs the other end of the strap and enters a tug-of-war with Michaels. The ref comes out and admonishes Payton, who wins that war, and Michaels hops in the ring and lines up for a Sweet Chin Music on Razor. Razor moves and Michaels pops Diesel, who is knocked out by that kick for a good minute while Shawn hops out of the ring, admonishes himself, scrambles around theatrically, tries to cheat again, and gets yanked out of the ring by Sweetness. Meanwhile, Razor finally rolls over and covers Diesel to win a pinfall and become the new Intercontinental Champion. Mighty Shawn Michaels and his superkicks are almost as deadly as Triple H’s Pedigrees (damage amplified when used on black folks, of course). Diesel and Razor had a decent match in there, but the only person who really mattered in this bout was – you guessed it! – the Heartbreak Kid. After the bout, said Heartbreak Kid is stalked to the back by a slightly peeved Diesel. During the replay, Macho Man Randy Savage has a few comments while thinking about following his old frenemy the Hulkster down to Atlanta so he can wrestle again. Interview time [w/Todd Pettengill]: In a black hole of a turn that caused time distortions because it was so drawn out, Tatanka accused Lex Luger of selling out to the Million Dollar Corporation when it was clear from the jump that Tatanka would be the one revealed to have sold out. Here, we get the results of a poll that I hope are worked because if not, most WWF fans are dopes: 54% of respondents believe Tatanka when he claims that Luger sold out. Anyway, Luger and Tatanka are with Pettengill right now. Lex is in disbelief that this poll got it wrong; Tatanka rudely interrupts and praises Americans for believing in his claims. Tatanka runs down his proof that Lex sold out, to wit: Ted DiBiase said that Lex sold out (yes, because DiBiase is so trustworthy that he’s in fact only been a lying heel during this whole WWF run) Ted DiBiase watched a Lex Luger match once on Superstars (who cares, what WWF fan in the 1990s hasn’t done this?) Lex Luger called Ted DiBiase “Ted” once, which indicates a level of intimacy so deep that they might as well be lovers (maybe in Victorian England or some other deeply repressed and highly formal place and time, but probably not in this setting) Lex Luger was talking to the downtrodden Nikolai Volkoff in Volkoff/DiBiase’s dressing room (the strongest evidence so far, but the video of the incident shows Luger getting in Volkoff‘s face and lecturing him, so it’s still dogshit evidence) DiBiase apparently helped Lex beat Crush by battering Crush with something behind Lex’s back (Lex can’t control what DiBiase is doing; see the second point above for another example) DiBiase walked into the unlocked door to Lex’s dressing room with a red-white-and-blue bag full of something. Or nothing. (We’re reaching here, Tatanka). Tatanka remains insistent that Lex sold out and marches to the ring to prove it; Lex swears that he’s innocent. Match: A year ago, Lex Luger was booked in a world title match to essentially choke even in a Pyrrhic victory over Yokozuna. On this show? He’s mired in a midcard feud with Tatanka. Does Luger’s WWF career fare better if he just stays heel and keeps being the Narcissist? Probably not, honestly. He’s blocked by Yokozuna at the top even though you’d think that Vince would want to run with a guy who looks like Luger does at some point. Tatanka lectures Luger about the ills of selling out to heels; Luger remains steadfast in his denial. OK, now we’re getting a boring match. Bummer. Heel Tatanka is so much less fun in the ring than babyface Tatanka, the latter of whom is a ball of energy and easy to root for (especially on comebacks). Heel Tatanka bums me out. I wonder if he’d been kept on longer in his second WWFE run what heel Tatanka would have looked like in ring. This match probably isn’t as boring as I framed it. It’s fine. Like every other match on this show so far, it’s fine. Both men trade moves in front of a somewhat quiet crowd; Vince notes that “fans don’t know what to make of this matchup,” which I think is subtext for DAMMIT, DO SOMETHING TO GET A REACTION. This would have been better if Tatanka was less tweener-ish and more pure babyface as he worked it. And, I suppose, if he didn’t accuse Lex of selling out in such an obviously tweener-ish way that often is the harbinger for a full heel turn. DiBiase makes his way to the ring holding the star-spangled duffel bag, which distracts Lex during his comeback. Lex faces DiBiase and yaps at him; Tatanka steals a quick schoolboy for three, that dirty cad, and then tells a furious Luger that hey, ya gotta takes your chances when you gets ‘em. DiBiase offers Luger some money that Luger kicks away, and of course, Tatanka attacks Luger and hits him with an End of the Trail, then another, before hugging his boy DiBiase and accepting a middle management position in the Million Dollar Corporation. DiBiase, screaming at McMahon: I EVEN FOOLED YOU! Uh, “even?” Try “only.” Then McMahon intones EVERYONE WAS FOOLED! Fuck you, Vince. Me and everyone else watching at the time were insulted at the idea that this Tatanka heel turn was some kind of surprising swerve. I know we’re wrestling fans, but we’re not dumb! Not that dumb, I mean. Even this post-match beatdown is too fucking long, by the way. I suppose that at least it matches the storyline and lead-up to this turn in its too-fuckety-fucking-long-ness. Gab Gab Gab: Gorilla Monsoon tells Tatanka that “[he is] a disgrace to all Native Americans,” and I feel like you’re overstepping your bounds here, Gorilla. Match: HA HA, you old slapnuts, it’s Double J Jeff Jarrett! Ain’t I bored?! Seriously, as a Jeff Jarrett enjoyer (generally), I feel like his Double J WWF run was only better than his dominant champ TNA run because it happened squarely in the midcard. Jarrett’s opponent: Mabel (w/Oscar). In a vacuu,, this matchup holds appeal to me! Mabel proffers a hand in the spirit of good sportsmanship, but Jarrett chooses to collar-and-elbow instead. Mabel does the worst Fargo Strut I’ve seen in a long time as part of an opening in which Mabel’s power meets Jarrett’s speed and agility. It's power that wins out initially. Jarrett reaches into his bag full of devious heel tricks, goes outside, shoves Oscar into the ring steps, and then trips Mabel and begins an assault meant keep the big man down. I mean, except for the fact that Jarrett lets him up and is caught on the last of a series of double-axehandles. Mabel attempts a comeback, so Jarrett leaps onto Mabel’s back and persistently attaches (and re-attaches after Mabel breaks it once by backing into the corner) a sleeper hold. Mabel breaks the hold once again by backing Jarrett into the corner, then landing a wheel kick that gets 2.9. We cut to Abe “Knuckleball” Schwartz wandering the stands and holding a sign that declares that he’s on strike with the rest of the MLBPA right now for some reason. Who cares about this jobber or your opinions on the baseball strike, Vince? You’re not funny, nor are you clever. Meanwhile Mabel manages to help Oscar get revenge by holding Jarrett in place for an Oscar slap, then follows that by crushing Jarrett against the post. He rolls Jarrett back in the ring and tries to kill him off with a second-rope splash, but Jarrett moves. Jarrett covers opportunistically, but Mabel kicks out. Jarrett tries a sunset flip next, but Mabel steadies himself and tries a huge sitdown splash that Jarrett scootches away from. Since Fat Man Fell Down, Jarrett turns right back around and covers for three off the Mabel misfire. Fatty Falls Down is even deadlier than the current Sweet Chin Music or future Pedigree here in mid-‘90s WWF. Seriously, what a crisis of creativity on the WWF’s part. If you can’t figure out a reasonable way for a smaller wrestler to defeat a super-heavyweight than “I guess the fat dude falls and can’t get up,” you should fire yourself for sucking at your job. Gab Gab Gab: Vince McMahon does an in-arena sketch in which he introduces Leslie Nielsen and George Kennedy, who are hot on the trail of the Undertaker and miss his form illuminating the entranceway behind them for a few seconds before they turn around and he is, of course, gone. Previously on…: We have to go allllllllllllllllll the way back to Survivor Series ’93, nine-ish months ago, to see where the rupture between siblings Owen and Bret Hart occurred. Most of this package is made up of footage that I already described when they were shown in earlier PPVs this year. For posterity: Bret and Owen got mixed up, Owen got eliminated, Owen got mad, Owen kicked Bret’s leg out of his leg, Owen beat Bret cleanly at WrestleMania, Bret then won the world title at WrestleMania, Owen won the King of the Ring tournament to finally earn a title shot at Bret, and here we are. Also, it’s a cage match because Jim Neidhart is a bitter bitch who is backing Owen out of spite, and we don’t want all of that interference that we got in the previous Diesel/Razor match to mar this one, especially because Neidhart doesn’t bump around nearly as well as HBK. Oh, and Bruce Hart got some TV time to insult Owen on a RAW after the King of the Ring, and he made a meal of it. Finally, at one point in the package, Bret says IN THE SUMMERSLAM! If I were doing a yearbook for WWF in 1994, I’d keep a Bret Hart IN THE SUMMERSLAM! counter just for fun. Interview time [w/Vince McMahon and Jerry Lawler]: Helen Hart cuts a good line when asked if she ever foresaw Owen and Bret at each other’s throats like this: “No, not in my wildest imaginings did I ever think it. I think it’s a fever [that’s] possessed Owen, and I hope he overcomes it one day.” Stu’s all like EH, MAY THE BEST HART WIN. I get a kick out of the stereotypicality of mom being worried about her wayward son’s emotional development, but dad being like EH, I JUST WANNA SEE A GOOD FIGHT, DAMMIT. Lawler then screams at Stu and Helen for neglecting Owen’s emotional development before interviewing Davey Boy Smith, who cuts a bland promo in support of Bret and who maybe should ask Helen for advice about cutting these things. The whole Hart brood is here, including Jim Neidhart. Neidhart should also ask Helen for promo-giving advice. Oh my goodness, now Bruce is yelling at Neidhart, who has an extremely meme-able face as he blithely stares back at Bruce. Interview time [w/Todd Pettengill]: Bret Hart cuts a surprisingly emotionally powerful promo in which he denies that his shoot case of strep throat will slow him down tonight before insisting to Owen that while he fully believes that he’s the better wrestler between the two, he genuinely doesn’t hate his little bro and never did look down on him, though he does hate Neidhart for stoking Owen’s jealousy. My paraphrase of the content doesn’t actually do this promo justice, but the killer line for me comes after Bret verbally attacks Neidhart is the following, said kinda sadly and kinda angrily all at once: “Owen, I don’t hate you. I just kinda feel sorry for you.” Can I possibly interest you in a subscription to my Bret Hart Was a Way Better Promo Than He Is Typically Given Credit For newsletter? It’s all about how Bret Hart was a way better promo than he is typically given credit for. Also, there are recipes! Match: Challenger Owen Hart makes his way to the ring to what is technically the instrumental version of “I Wanna Be a Hulkamaniac.” Label Jimmy Hart a conservationist because while I can’t talk about how much he reduced, I can confirm that he certainly reused and recycled. Soon follows our fighting babyface champion Bret Hart, who across these shows in 1993 and 1994 has only more deeply embedded my belief that he’s the best WWF guy in the history of its recorded era (in the sense that no other wrestler to come through the territory has a better WWF-specific portfolio of matches than he does). Owen enthusiastically rains blows upon the Hitman’s head to start this title match, but Bret fires back with an inverted atomic drop and a diving clothesline. Owen hops right back up and continues his assault, however. It’s been said countless times before, but this is the culmination of a blood feud in a cage, and yet no one is bleeding and everyone is trying to climb out of the cage to win. This robs the cage and the story both of their power; in other cage matches, the point is that you are stuck inside the steel to punch each other bloody and to bash one another into the cage until one of you is too destroyed to wrestle anymore. That’s definitive. On the other hand, one wrestler beating another wrestler to the floor is less definitive. And while the act of blading is problematic to say the least, this is at least in theory the type of match that you would expect to have blood from both men along with camera shots of Helen freaking out as her sons gush all over one another, right? So this match is going to be graded on two planes. On one plane, they work a pretty effective match around stuffing one another’s escapes and, even more than trying to out-wrestle one another, out-clever one another by being the wrestler smart enough to make a quick escape before the other one can do anything. On another plane, while Bret said that he didn’t hate Owen, Owen sure hates Bret and there should have been far more punches and bloody knuckles. This is a faintly dissatisfying match. It’s like having a craving for seafood cioppino and being handed a plate with a glazed porkchop and rice pilaf. Like, what you’re eating is still good, obviously, but it’s not what you wanted at all, and you can’t bring yourself to enjoy it as much as you should. It’s a luxury to feel this way, certainly. This match is genuinely built around escape spots to the point that they’re not really having a wrestling match so much as a series of careful maneuverings to try and slip one another and clamber over the top of the cage. Let me clarify that the crowd is into every single one of these escape spots. Eventually, both men engage on the mat once more and there’s a double-clothesline spot. Owen stirs first and crawls for the door; they work a really good struggle spot around this escape. All the struggle spots around escapes are good. They’re just not what I’d expect from a match with this much emotional heft. At one point, we get a wide shot of the United Center, which means we see teeny-tiny Bret do something to Owen that gets a pop. Bret tries a dive next (he’s regular-sized again) and misses. Owen pulls himself to his feet and begins to climb. The crowd shrieks. Bret holds Owen from dropping by his hair, which is a visually very cool spot. As usual, a Bret match from this time has visually cool spots peppered through it. The upcoming finish is the one everyone remembers, but there’s been good stuff in here, too: Owen yanking Bret from the cage and crotching him in the process got a good reaction as well. Oh, and there’s this nice super back suplex that Owen uses to pull Bret from his climb as well. So, after Owen spends so much time punching Bret away from stopping him as he climbs the ropes, he’s punched-out to the point that he crotches himself. Bret goes for the door and then they have what is an incredibly effective fight over Bret’s attempt to crawl out in which they throw fired-up punches at one another and change positions; Bret finally yanks Owen back into the ring and catapults him into the cage, but he gets confused about where he is in the ring and crawls away from the door before finally figuring out where he went wrong and being caught slithering out by Owen, who recovers and does a huge leap to catch Bret’s ankle at the last second. Bret crawls over the top of the cage. Owen, who teased a failure to catch him by back bumping with exhaustion before he could make his way up the cage, manages to get up there and stop Bret. This match is too fucking long. I dig all the escape spots, but this match is basically Oops! All Escape Spots! It really could have ended five minutes ago. After a couple more protracted escape spots and one huge (and very cool) spot where Bret superplexes Owen over the cage and back into the ring, we then get Owen wrapping Bret in the Sharpshooter to incapacitate him. Bret reverses it and torques it for a while before dropping it and climbing over the cage wall…and being caught by Owen as both men crash to the mat. This match is so fucking long. Holy shit, it’s endless. Not “Tatanka heel turn” endless, but fuck me, it's too long. Finally, here’s the finish with both men clambering over the top of the cage together and Bret knocking Owen into a compromised position with Owen's leg caught in the cage; Owen dangles a couple of tantalizing feet away from the floor as Bret finally drops to the mats to retain his title. Jim Neidhart angrily attacks the Bret-supporting Davey Boy before jumping on Bret after the match. Diana also made certain to take the bump along with Davey, which I remember Bret not approving of for whatever reason. I don’t know, I thought the spot looked good and came off as hateful and petty on Neidhart's part. Neidhart and Owen dump Bret back in the ring, chain the door closed, and wear him out until Davey, Bruce, and the rest of the boys climb over. I mean, someone should have stopped Neidhart before it ever got to this point. Davey got clotheslined out of the picture for a bit, but what is the excuse for the rest of the Hart Brothers sitting right there in the first three rows? This reads like they really do hate Bret and just let him get his ass whipped for a while before finally deigning to make the save. The escape spots in this were certainly good, but I don’t think I actually enjoyed this. The cage match, while well-executed, didn’t fit the tenor of the feud, and the post-match stuff was poorly done because Neidhart was well-outnumbered and should never have had that amount of success. Interview time [w/Todd Pettengill]: Owen claims that the Hart Family TURNED THEIR BACKS ON [HIM]. That’s the kind of sound byte that would be good if mixed into an entrance theme, huh? Shill Shill Shill: Football is for wussies! This Thanksgiving, watch the Survivor Series instead of watching the Cowboys back when they were actually good! Previously on…: Here’s another long-form package reminding us how we got to a match between doppelgänger Undertakers, starting with the Royal Rumble ’94 Undertaker/Yokozuna Casket Match that ended with the heels metaphorically driving nails into the Undertaker’s staked hands (but literally just stealing his mystical urn and then pummeling him into a coffin). Since then, Yokozuna has lost the world title and as an aside, who was notably not on this card, meaning that the previous SummerSlam’s Yokozuna/Luger main event really seems like a wasted opportunity to have a big match on the second-biggest PPV of the year that elevated one or both guys for a long-term position. Since then, normies reported a number of unverified Undertaker sightings before Ted DiBiase and Paul Bearer entered a dispute over which one had managed to contact and bring back the real Undertaker. Again, this story would have worked better if the company had openly been like, “Yo, DiBiase’s Undertaker is obviously fake. He’s shorter and doesn’t look quite the same and all his tattoos are slightly different. DiBiase is lying, so let's see if Bearer can contact the real Undertaker to stop this fraud.” Brian Lee isn’t exactly Mark Calaway’s twin, you know. Instead, they spent time annoying me back in 1994 by having Paul Bearer not recognize that it wasn’t actually the Undertaker even though in kayfabe, Bearer should have immediately been like, “OHHHH NOOOOOOO, that ain’t MY UNDERTAKER. Nice try, DiBiase.” Huh, in retrospect, I spent a lot of time annoyed at the WWF in 1994 that I think was softened both by the fact that Bret was the champ for most of it and by the fact that I had WCW Saturday Night and Worldwide to enjoy on a consistent basis (at least whenever Hogan wasn’t on screen). Match: So, the Undertaker (w/Ted DiBiase) faces the Undertaker (w/Paul Bearer). Bearer does a whole ceremony in which a casket is wheeled out, but instead of holding the Undertaker, it holds a new urn with even better mystical zombie powers than the previous urn that the heels stole from him back at the Rumble. Bless Bearer for uncovering this urn, which shoots a light into the arena's rafters, and reacting like he’s opened a Ghostbusters trap and let Zuul out. Uh, a good Zuul in this case, I suppose. Anyway, that brings forth the actual Undertaker, who has had eight months off and who I remember sorely missing from WWF television back when I was watching this as a tween. I tuned into mid-’94 WWF for Bret, then Undertaker, then Shawn and Razor after that, so I recall how excited I was for this return and, even with the silly Leslie Nielsen promotional stuff that I remember very much wanting to like more than I did. I was especially into the idea of a mirror match, which is high-concept for pro wrestling, and so, yeah, this match was a real bummer when I saw it. They tried the mirror match concept again in a way with Kane, and that match at WM 14 a) is something that I’ve written about semi-recently and the review will be added later in this thread and b) is a match that I’ve seen @zendragonsay that match is a more developed draft of this ‘Taker vs. ‘Taker match. Since we’re not at that point yet, let’s grab what I had to say about the match and post it here for comparison’s sake. I Wrote Some Shit Earlier That Might Be Relevant Now: Maybe I had a low opinion of this show partly because I remember Undertaker/Kane as being an interminable slog. However, considering how much higher I am on this show as I watch it today, might this match be better than I remember it? The video package to introduce it isn’t bad, mostly because I could watch Paul Bearer ham it up ALL DAY. But no, this match sucks. Pete Rose comes down and gets spiked by Kane, so that’s funny (and the start of a great running joke). Rose trolls the partisan crowd of Red Sox fans pretty good, actually. This dude’s a natural heel. I mean, I’m not sure you want Kane to get a massive face pop here, but whatever, this was entertaining. I also think druids holding torches to light the Undertaker’s way to the ring is another great visual in a show full of ‘em. But then the bell rings, and Kane is one dude who has almost no great matches for someone who has been in a position to have a lot of high-on-the-card, even high-profile ones. I’m rifling my brain for a great match that Kane’s worked. I’m sure he’s worked a verging-on-great tag once or twice, but I don’t know about singles, and I definitely don’t remember him ever working something great. I think Kane was best as the heavy in the Kane-and-Waltman tag team, and most of the greatness of that team was X-Pac being one of the best FIPs in the history of American pro wrestling, like Ricky Morton-level in his execution of that role. I digress yet again. This match is full of plodding offense and bores the shit out of me. This thing could have been five minutes shorter and all the more bearable for it. By the laws of pro wrestling, Kane is punished for pulling the Undertaker up after chokeslamming and pinning him. ‘Taker comes back, kicks out of a Kane Tombstone, and hits three Tombstones for the win (Kane kicks out of the first two). I will say that ‘Taker does try with a spot where he dives through the Spanish announcing table, but no, that doesn’t get close to saving this thing. The best parts were the pre-match gaga, the Undertaker table dive, and Paul Bearer’s antics outside the ring. Bearer yelling DAMN YOU, DAMN YOU TO HELL at Undertaker or going full Redd Foxx with the pantomime heart attack after Kane barely kicks out of the second Tombstone is so good. Paul Bearer rules. It’s also a nice touch that Undertaker stops just crossing Kane’s arms and actually lateral covers and hooks Kane’s leg on the third Tombstone. But yeah, those little things, while cool, aren’t enough to cover for the black hole of awfulness that is Kane. Match (continued): So the question is whether or not Brian Lee is a better worker than Glen Jacobs. I don’t think he is, actually. Kane’s a better athlete. This match is about as long as the entrances, though, and that Kane match at WM 14 is double the length of this. That means it’ll probably be better. I mean this match is also full of plodding offense that bores me. Question: Is the Undertaker’s old-school attire better with gray or purple gloves? Man, I like the gray look a ton. Vince claims that THIS CAPACITY CROWD IS IN AWE, but no, they are bored stiff, and I know that you know that, Vince. Haha, Vince: “You can hear the virtual silence of this capacity crowd; they are stunned.” Let me guess Vince’s internal monologue: DAMMIT, NEXT TIME WE DO A PLODDING MIRROR MATCH BETWEEN ZOMBIE MEN, I’M HAVING CALAWAY SWAN DIVE THROUGH A TABLE TO KEEP THE CROWD AWAKE. Fakertaker hits a chokeslam and a Tombstone, but the real Undertaker sits up, reverses another Fakertaker Tombstone attempt, and hits a nice jumping Tombstone of his own before piling on another couple of Tombstones on just to make certain before successfully covering for three. Yes, that finishing run is carbon copied for the Kane bout, with the difference being that Kane kicked out of two of those Tombstones and ‘Taker had to resort to hooking the leg to get the pinfall after the third Tombstone. I’d rather watch this again because it was shorter, but it wasn’t any better otherwise. Gab Gab Gab: Dammit, give Randy Savage more to do, Vince. Savage kicks it over to Leslie Nielsen and George Kennedy, who have missed everything that has happened over the last twenty minutes and come upon the coffin backstage, which they open. They think the Undertaker will be in there because, y’know, they’re dopes who aren't paying any attention. He’s not in there, of course. Kennedy spots a locked briefcase nearby, picks it up, and declares that “the case is closed.” Here, let me fill you in on Vince’s internal monologue right now: HYUK HYUK HYUK. Anyway, that’s how this show ends. On a dad joke. And not a good one, even! This show embodies wrestling mediocrity. Was it good? No. Did it have some good stuff sprinkled throughout? Sure. Will I ever take the time to watch any of this show again in my life? Almost certainly not. 2.25 Digital Snowflakes out of 5.

Absolutely. Re: Snuka, I was thinking more through mostly in-ring work, like Benoit (boy, are he and Snuka alike in unsettling ways, but that was my immediate comp).

Here's a June 26th episode of WWF Championship Wrestling: A couple of thoughts/questions: Was Jimmy Snuka the first modern WWF wrestler to get himself over as a babyface against what the bookers were trying to accomplish and largely through his in-ring work? Blackjack Mulligan is like Ernie Ladd or Andre or other big dudes of the 1970s who are massive without being bodybuilders, and I miss that body type. Sometimes, I just want to see a 6'8 dude who is like "fuck being an amateur kinesiologist, I just eat steaks and throw lariats," you know? I feel Baron Corbin was kind of like that back in the day, but he was slimmer than a Ladd or Mulligan. This show absolutely got me hyped to see Backlund/Snuka and Mulligan/Andre. I've just started reading Kanyon's autobiography, and he mentions a major title match between Backlund and Snuka that he saw live and that was extremely important to him, but the year given is 1983, so it probably isn't this match being promoted here. My '70s and early '80s WWF knowledge is comparatively poor and not where it needs to be, so I'm working on watching and reading about more of that stuff, but were Backlund and Snuka feuding for the world title off and on for the next few months? And to combine my first and third points here, Kanyon calls the 1983 Snuka/Backlund title match "the best thing we - and most of the rest of the wrestling world - had ever seen" and talks at length about Snuka crashing and burning off the top of the cage as an amazing high spot for the time. Probably, people here already have more insight into this than I do, but would it be fair to draw a line from Snuka to Kanyon and from Kanyon to the Bucks when putting AEW's house style into a framework? That's obviously an oversimplification, but would it be fair to give significant credit to this throughline, or am I off here?

Jeff Pearlman, Football For a Buck - This is the story of a league that was hijacked by that loudmouth thicko Donald Trump. Pearlman, in what is probably the most analytically-focused writing he's ever done, meticulously tells the story of a fledgling football league that, even though many owners immediately spent past their self-imposed caps and the league office failed to vet its buyers effectively, would have maybe stuck around and done well as a spring football compliment to the NFL even to this day were it not for Trump, here continuing along his path toward failing upward into the presidency of the United States by running the same playbook in 1984 that he has over the past ten years: Bluster a ton, promise riches beyond belief, keep the weak-minded and most influential among him in thrall because they're too mentally immature to stand up to him, use the utterly worthless major media outlets to happily and freely help shape his plans as he carries them out, isolate and minimize any voices of sanity and reason, and failing that last bit, just ignore them because they talk more quietly and calmly and thus can never inflame the basest passions of Trump's easy marks as Trump can do. So, yeah. Shout out to the Jacksonville Bulls. That was a well-run and popular franchise, and once I read this book, the NFL's expansion to Jacksonville a decade later made perfect sense in retrospect. Patrick Radden Keefe, London Falling - The long-form article that Radden Keefe expanded into this book is here. This book touches on everything from the London criminal underworld to Russian influence in the UK to how deleterious social media is to an individual's sense of reality. But mostly, it serves as another reminder that law enforcement as a typical rule in Western countries only cares about pursuing murderers when they are one of that country's undesirables. If you're rich enough/have the complexion for protection/powerful enough, you can do whatever you want and the cops'll pretty much faff about and ultimately leave you alone to get on with your life. Martyn Godfrey, I Spent My Summer Vacation Kidnapped Into Outer Space - After years of remembering only the cover and the slug fight in the gladatorial arena (trust me, that second part makes sense in context), I finally found this book, which I read for the first time since I was maybe ten or eleven. Obviously, I'm older, so it doesn't hold the same appeal that it did way back then, but I do love the idea of some company optioning a movie script adapted from this book. This is the type of book that, had they made a movie, I would have absolutely tried to see as a kid and probably would have loved numerous times on VHS. Those Apple Paperbacks from the mid-'70s through the early '90s were often weird and somewhat high-concept, and now that I have this book, which of course has order forms for other Apple Paperbacks, I'm going to read a lot of stuff that I forgot even existed anymore.

I popped into my local used bookstore to do a rare book trade-in and looked around. For the first time that I can remember, there were two wrestling autobiographies in the tiny sports shelf they have, and not the typical fare you'd expect. They had both Chris Kanyon's Facing Reality and Vince Russo's Rope Opera. Naturally, I flipped through Russo book, immediately stopped on a page that unironically used the word "Negro" for black folks (he was referencing some game he played as a kid that apparently hasn't had the same cultural awareness update as Kill the Person With the Ball did), and made the decision that I knew I was going to make even before I was dumb enough to chance flipping through Russo's book. I'll let y'all know what I think about the Kanyon book when I get around to it.

I went to Ground Kontrol in Portland a week ago, which I forgot to mention, but which I was reminded of after watching Jeff Gerstmann play Cruis'n USA on the N64 for this cursed ranked list of N64 games he's going to put together. (As an aside, the list will probably be just fine. His NES list was perfectly reasonable from a macro viewpoint. From a micro viewpoint, are there things anyone might quibble about? Sure. I think SMB3 clears every other game on the NES - and I've played many of them and pretty much all of his top 75 - pretty easily for reasons that didn't land with him. Is there at least one ranking that stands out as a "this person has wild opinions about games" ranking? Sure, and I think it's probably him putting Tecmo Bowl five places in front of Tecmo Super Bowl basically because TSB has too many options in the gameplay for him. That's pretty much what you're going to get when a human ranks anything, though. If I played all the NES games, I'd rank Zelda II above Legend of Zelda and SMB2 US would probably be outside of my top fifty, and those are at least as controversial as TB in front of TSB. But also, what's the point of watching/reading through a list if not to decry the parts of it that you personally find to be wild?) Anyway, other than playing the usual games - Crazy Taxi, still awesome! The Simpsons, still fantastic! Bust-a-Move, still my absolute favorite match three puzzle game! - I spent some time with two games that I hadn't really spent any time with at all. The first was Time Crisis 5. Now you can change positions with the foot pedals. I assure you that this seems small, but it actually is a huge gameplay leap. Time Crisis 5 rules, which is in line with all the other Time Crisis arcade versions. The other game that I spent a lot of time with is Cruis'n Blast. I've actually played quite a bit of it on Switch, but never had I played the arcade version. As fun as it is on Switch with the five collectibles per track, sitting in that cab and racing only amplified the fun. I have a lot of good feelings about Cruis'n in general, going back to spending a few quarters on Cruis'n World at my local bowling alley after league (and after MSH vs. SF or occasionally some air hockey). This week, I'm going to put some time into Cruis'n USA and Cruis'n World on N64 for my ongoing tier-ranked N64 list. I also got a copy of Knockout Kings 2000 for seven bucks, so I'll play more of that. I'm going to place Snowboard Kids along with all of those games. Since it's summertime, I'll theoretically have more time to play some of these things from a critical standpoint, so that's exciting. Other notes: I like Star Fox 64 better than Star Fox, but Star Fox is still good. I don't know that there's much more to say about this remake other than having to spend a few seconds skipping cutscenes sucks, but since you can now re-start a level from the top or the mid-level checkpoint without losing a life (thus making it easier to restart when you know you've gotten off to a poor beginning while going for medals), I suppose that the trade-offs of modernization end up in the remake's favor in terms of Respecting Your Time.

I just saw a picture of Matt Cardona. Is he working an "RDJ in Tropic Thunder" gimmick? He looks like a jackass. This man speaks with authority. Do we have any Ethiopians posting on this board to round out this discussion by talking about the magic of the the Yirga Chefe region and its glorious coffee beans?

I would guess you might feel quite the same way about straight-up powdered lemonade that you feel about powdered sweet tea as an adult. As a kid, yeah, anything with cane sugar or HFCS was good! I enjoy my tea hot or iced and am snobby enough to just make sun tea or sweet tea with actual tea leaves, though. Was there ever a worker working an English, Chinese, or Japanese snobby foreigner gimmick who had a whole tea service delivered to him before a match? Actually, that'd be a great spot to do in the middle of the match. After beating up a jobber for five minutes, it's time for a refreshment, complete with full tea ceremony relevant to the culture. You could do it with an Indian heel, too. Or a South African one, I guess, considering rooibos.

Instant coffee tech has made it to "passable in a desperate spot" (like during a power outage when your machine has no power or when camping), but yeah. I mean, no one is drinking Nestea, Cafe Bustelo pour-in crystals, or Country Time if they can help it. They'll drink the real thing. Yeah, I didn't really think of it as a flavor profile either until this book came out: http://books.google.com/books/about/Bitter.html?id=wlXeoQEACAAJ Preference for that flavor profile is largely genetic, I've read in other places. I love coffee, tea, beer, spinach, and brussels sprouts, but it's mostly a biologically acquired taste. You can train yourself to enjoy it, though (I'm currently training myself to enjoy peanut butter on some level, and it's working!).

So yeah, games are still coming out. I got Star Fox. They shaved the "64" off the title, but yeah, it's still Star Fox 64, and it's still very, very good from the perspective of gameplay. However, I think it looks and sounds kind of ugly. Oh, the redone visuals for the planets themselves look good so far. I've only done Meteos (in the demo) and Corneria (in the actual game). Those look excellent. On the other hand, these character models are hideous. I'm also not a fan of the voice acting. Don't get me wrong here. I recognize the utter cheese of the SF64 voice acting, but that's charming. When you beat the secret boss on Corneria, the boss pilot's WHO ARE YOU GUYS?! and YOU'LL NEVER DEFEAT ANNNNNNNNNNNDROSSSSSSSSSS are bad in a funny way. For that matter, Star Fox's forthright and cheerful WE'RE STAR FOX in response to the first question is also cheesy, but endearing. This new game tries to give it a Top Gun-ish edge, and even though Top Gun is also cheesy, I don't think the type of cheesy Top Gun is fits so well with this game. Fox and Falco's Maverick-and-Iceman relationship isn't well-written or acted, and Fox's tough guy veneer ("We're STAR FOX, and we're comin' for your boss next!") is just not what I want from a game where anthropomorphised woodland critters shoot pew-pews at a giant Gorilla head to save the galaxy. So yeah, that's not so great at this point. I'll finish a run through Venom tonight and mess around with this game some more over the next few weeks, though. The gameplay is still there. I just hope they do something else with the IP now that they've reintroduced Fox in both a movie and a remade game.