Gawker Gawked The Gawk

 Gawker croaked in the last bit or so. It’s kind of hard to determine the exact moment of its death. Could have been the second the video clip of Hogan was posted. Possibly when they outed Peter Thiel. I guess it was most likely when the judge – who by the way has some record amount of overturned cases – ordered the immediate handover of Gawker and $140 million to Hulk Hogan. Yet, it is still thrashing somewhat and giving a few last what-fors.

 Hulk Hogan, I used to think you were cool. When I was a kid, your cartoon was my gateway drug to the WWF. I watched it every Saturday and thought it was great. So much so that I held it in the Pantheon of Saturday Morning Cartoons. Which included Dungeons & Dragons, Droids, The Gummi Bears and yes, The Wuzzles. I don’t remember what time the show was on, but I know that I didn’t miss it. That is because I would wake up early on Saturday and watch the U.S. Farm Report – yes, it was boring. Did you know that Saturday morning cartoons had an intro, more of a bumper really?

 Oh, how I have digressed. I don’t really want to talk about Hogan, The Hulkster. I know that he is a person, a real flesh and blood person. He has feelings and didn’t fully deserve what happened to him. It’s a pretty screwed up thing and having the internet laugh and leer at you is horrible. So much so that it’s up there on my list of terrible things like being burned alive and drowning by swirly.  

 However, all that laughing and leering happened four years ago. No one remembered it. No one cared. Except for a billionaire who cared a little too much about destroying Gawker. He used Hogan’s ordeal as the reason to do so. Basically out-moneyed them. Keeping them tangled up in court battles and finally suing for a ridiculously exorbitant amount.

 Over the years, I’ve let my membership to the Hulkamaniacs lapse, but that happened during the Hollywood Hogan years. When he was playing at being a villainous opposite day version of himself who had his feelings hurt.

 I had stopped watching wrestling by the time Hulk Hogan showed up again. I heard about it and have now watched the clips. It was good to have the good ole patriotic Hulkster back! I never thought that the Hollywood Hogan would ever rear his head again. How wrong I was and this time he wasn’t fictional.

 Hulk Hogan, this is now going to be your legacy. People are going to remember this. Maybe they won’t remember the specifics, but they will probably have a tainted besmirched feeling when they think of you. Hopefully, they don’t remember that you literally ruined a man’s life and what he built. Not to mention the many people he employed. All because they posted a video that showed your no-no’s while you banged your friend’s wife and he secretly recorded it. Once again, you didn’t necessarily deserve all that, but did anyone deserve having their lives destroyed? Seriously, who banged who’s wife?

 When Macho Man, Andre The Giant, Rowdy Roddy Piper, Chyna, and [The Ultimate] Warrior passed away, everyone just remembered them. Their huge personalities, rivalries, and storylines were all any fan could think of. For days people walked around imitating them. It felt like we lost friends.

 Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I will feel the same way someday about you. In fact, maybe I feel that way right now. Yes, I think this frame of mind is preferable. I would rather think the Hulkster passed away years ago. Since then, I’ve remembered him fondly. All that is left is Terry Bollea, who despite all of Hogan’s Christian ways, coveted his neighbor’s wife, couldn’t turn the other cheek, and was filled with wrath and greed. Either way, I’ve quit taking the vitamins and saying the prayers and I wouldn’t stop you if you did too.

 

Once Again, Waiting For The Meteor

 My wife and I have just returned from a road trip around British Columbia. I’ve lived here for ten years and have never been north of Whistler or east of Bridal Falls, well by car at least. We had a great time gallivanting through the Cariboo to Prince George. We had an equally great time scooting through the Okanagan Valley. Especially once we got a designated driver to haul us to different wineries!

 Our hotel room was a bit of a hot mess at first. Eventually, that got sorted out and we got some Denny’s gift cards. And before any of the lost souls known as foodies get all worked up about diner cuisine.  Yes, we did use them. We used the shit out of them, on a surprisingly delicious breakfast slam.  

 So, what the hell is deal with the title? Why am I uncharacteristically positive thus far? What could have possibly happened to turn my warm inebriated smile flip on the dial? What kind of first world problem could do such a thing?

 Everything was going great. Better than great, we had a case of wine in our arms and a bottle in our bellies. We slipped back into the hotel room. Nothing was out of place. We made some food in the tiny kitchenette. We turned on the TV. Then for whatever reason, we stopped on the W Channel.

 What I am going to say next isn’t a blanket statement. Some of the shows aren’t all that bad, hell even the Luke Perry movie wasn’t that bad. However, there were a select few shows about houses nestled between other shows about houses that I didn’t enjoy so much. In fact, they made me lose hope for humanity. As in, we are screwed as a species.     

 These shows have a team of scripted ponces delivering one-liners and zingers that come off sounding like sexual tension in a pressure cooker being shot out of air lock directly into a black hole. I was just waiting for them to clear a table and go to town on one another, but it wasn’t Cinemax. To make matters worse, they typically have some chattering yip-yops complaining about the house they own not having a powder room, music room, or some other superfluous room that only pinky raising ninnies and entitled nitzes find necessary.

 As I watched I just became more and more frustrated. Young people own a freaking detached home in Vancouver! All the house required was a trip to Ikea for some organizational shelving doo-flickies and a trip to Home Depot to buy a new flushing mechanism for the toilet. Of course one of these products of helicopter parenting would have to nut up and install the damn thing, but seriously, it takes an hour if you’re drinking.

 There were other shows, same thing different cities and house flippers. My faith humanity was reduced to zero. The likelihood of us circumventing global calamity looks slim to none. I went to the window, pulled back the blind, and looked to the sky. Not for some divine intervention, but cosmic interruption. Alas, I saw no giant flaming space rock hurtling toward me. So I decided I would sit on the bed and complacently wait. Also, another show was on that wasn’t so bad.

Taking a Break

Tis the season to take a break, rest, and recharge. I’ll be back in two weeks with new posts. One more thing. Thanks for reading over the last few years. I truly appreciate every single one of you and every time you’ve read one of my ramblings. Without you, I’m just talking to myself.