| You Wrongly Use the Passive Voice: That Is, Own the War; Colossus/Phenetic/A Plus 4/15/2009 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 22 2010, 12:58 AM (543 Views) | |
| Phenetic | May 22 2010, 12:58 AM Post #1 |
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Killed BQ
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Colossus speaks one on one with one of BQWA's finest cameramen, William Colson, a man who graduated with a dual degree in art and photography yet always had a passion for the coarseness of professional wrestling. Mr. Colson received a steady paycheck for his work at the BQWA, and over the time Colossus has spent on the roster, he's enjoyed speaking with William about a variety of learned topics. The big man is nothing if not a proponent of the expansion of one's mind, especially in dialogue with those whom are quite knowledgable in their fields. William--his friends call him Bill--is an intellectual jack of all trades, master of...few. Art and photography, specifically, the areas of expertise about which he informed young Alex Kingman constantly. The rundown on the latest paintings, the coolest black and white photographs, the works. An art man's man. A purveyor of fine culture and a touch of class in a world too often marked by the philistinism of mushier, sillier minds! All hail William Colson. Colossus did, especially on this day when the gentleman held a camera steady and spoke with the young man about a certain recent promo involving one of the members of Team Halo. War Games coming up, no? So it is. Colossus: "Bill, I brought you here today because I'm troubled deeply. There's a guy on the roster, you might have heard of him. Phenetic." William Colson (WC): "Sure have. Not the nicest fellow." Colossus: "Naturally." "So, I brought you here, Bill, because you're a connoisseur of fine things and properness in general, I'd say." WC: "Well, I do try my best. I dabble in life's little pleasantries." Colossus: "Does it, then, offend you as much as it offends me that Phenetic put out a statement to the world, carried by BQWA.com, about War Games? A statement of bravado and swagger, to be sure, but that never bothers me...our business, after all, is built on such things. Bravado, swagger, ambition...it drives so many of us to be excellent, after all." WC: "Phenetic? That young man? Ambitious? Ambition should be made of sterner stuff." Colossus: "Splendid riposte!" "Anyhoos, I brought you here to comment on this travesty of wrestling because Phenetic's press release scalded me something awful. The headline he posted on our most esteemed website was, and I quote, 'War Is Upon Us.'" "Now, far be it from me to claim grammatical perfection or the firmest grasp of our fine English language, but...I must say...I'm peeved, Bill." "War Games is a brutal battle, held inside a structure unforgiving and awful, between 10 men out for blood and glory. On one side, I fight first and foremost with A+, a former World Champion and surefire Hall of Famer. On the other side, Halo brings Phenetic and a cast of oddballs, eccentrics, and all-around head cases." "But Phenetic brays that 'WAR IS UPON US.'" "No, sir. War is not passive. War does not occur in the abstract. People BRING war, there is an active quality to the noun and to the verb 'to war' that is unlike almost any other noun or verb in Christendom." "I bring war to my opponents. I brought war to A+ in the past. I beat him. I brought war to Johnny Karisma in the past, wrapping a steel chair around his head. I beat him. I brought war to Josh Dean, to Kid Disturbed, to Adam Edge, to Dan Sorbello, to Cobain. I beat them all." "And, most importantly for this particular case, I brought war to Phenetic. And I beat him. Badly. Very, very badly. As though he owed me such great sums of money that Mr. Rockefeller of old would blush at the price." "Active noun, active verb, no passive construction. But I should have seen this coming, Bill. If you've ever seen Phenetic's actions, if you've ever listened to his ramblings, hell if you took the time to watch his rant against me just recently...you would realize that this grammatical slip-up was in fact indicative of him in general." "Passivity personified." "A blamer of others." "What did he say?" "...no I was stuck facing people who clean toilets for a living.” Colossus: I WAS STUCK. Not, "my actions led me to..." "Not, 'I could not cut it, SO...'" "Not, 'Perhaps I am not as good as I once thought.'" "The thought never crossed his tweaked brain. Why should it? Narcissism is an unkind mistress." "What else?" “It was 2 years ago Colossus, 2 years ago where we were put into Fusion and billed as the two next big stars of the industry. While we had that heated and passionate rivalry in the ring, we remained close friends backstage. You were the Dr. Wilson to my House as you told me a long time ago, but things changed after I got involved with Daniel Sorbello. Yet suddenly you have a ‘conscious’ and wouldn’t approve of my actions against Kaylee. What’s wrong, was I not morally profound enough for the ‘Conscious of BQWA’?” Colossus: "...but things changed? THINGS changed? No, Phenetic, for all your self-absorption and whining, you can't take responsibility for when YOUR actions have consequences for YOU based on how YOU treat other people. No passivity, you fucking idiot. Active decisions. ACTIONS. By YOU. Not 'things' changing. YOU. DOING. THINGS." "And SUDDENLY I have a conscience? As though this once vestigial thing, this unnecessary appendix of mine popped up as useful one sunny morning? Just because you couldn't tell that I had a conscience--coked-up and dumb as hell like you were--doesn't mean the conscience failed to exist, failed to burn within me. Your denseness does not equal a lack of conscience on my part, past or present." "What was WRONG with you was not a lack of moral profundity. What was WRONG with you was the fact that you consistently measured yourself against me. I was your measuring stick for all things, wrestling or social life, fights or morality." "You have. No. Bearings. I define you like the canvas defines an artist. I am your Mt. Everest. You struggle vainly to climb up me, to defeat me, and you fail." "But what, pray tell, if you succeed? What then, Phenetic, you jumble of violence and failure? What if...you beat me? At War Games? Or after War Games? Or before War Games? Or all of the above? What then? How do you define yourself apart from me, apart from your ponderous quest to SEND ME A MESSAGE? To conquer me? What does Ahab do if he captures the White Whale, having built his whole life around it?" "But you turned me back to drugs Colossus, you turned me back to the miserable piece of shit I despised and tried to run away from." Colossus: "No, decidedly not. Your inability to master any semblance of self-control did that. But blaming me is your passivity taking over, full force, refusing to accept any negativities as your own and lashing out against those who tried repeatedly to get you the help you needed. Your passivity and blame is the mark of a weak, foolhardy man." "When Steve died you came because the cameras were there, ready to feed off of my misery to make you seem like the happy and loving friend that you masked yourself too be. Pitting me aside like a cheap hooker and using me only for your career’s pleasure.” “Fuck you, I hope this tragedy from Tara hurts you.” "You two have so much in common, you’re both corporate whores who will go down for a merchandise deal, and you both fuck over anyone associated with you." Colossus: "The harsh words of a desperate man grasping at straws, hoping beyond hope that he isn't a broken shell of a human being bereft of human contact, familial love, or romantic connection. They are the words of a man in denial about what I tried to do for you, your family, and they would be humorous phrases if not so entirely pathetic." “Only after I rid you from my life can I finally become happy, finally become free from your tyranny.” Colossus: "Is that so? Have you the capability, at long last, to be happy? Easier said than done. Keep chasing the White Whale, Ahab. It's all you have left. Just don't catch it. The hunt is far more satisfying." "You have no idea what to do with yourself. I know Halo. He's a man with a twisted conscience, but he has never, ever relied on another to validate his position in life or in the BQWA. I don't like the guy, but I respect him as a competitor and as a man whose career speaks for itself. He knows that. I've said that to his face. I've said that behind his back. I've said it in print and on-line." "You, Phenetic? Hunt on, Ahab. Hunt on." "At War Games? I'm gonna fucking destroy you. Because I do have a conscience. And it would be the height of immorality to let you stay on your current glide-path to a career defined by wallowing in passivity." "Woe is you. Woe is the great and mighty Phenetic, destroyer of worlds. Woe are all who oppose you." "Cry some more, Phen. But always remember: I cry for love, and in sorrow for those WHOM I love. You cry for rage, and in the knowledge that your passivity has failed you time...and time...and time again." Fade to black. |
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| Phenetic | May 22 2010, 01:00 AM Post #2 |
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Killed BQ
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The setting is backstage where we see Phenetic standing backstage in front of the giant BQWA logo, smirking and lighting laughing. He had just watched Colossus’ most recent promo and he shakes his head almost in disbelief. He looks into the camera, immensely pissed off, but it hardly shows on the outside. “Colossus, you’re a former Heavyweight Champion, you’re one of the biggest marketable ‘characters’ in this industry. I fail to see how that makes you a somebody, do you think it makes you special? How does that give you the right to go out and grab a camera man and embarrass me in front of all of the BQWA fans? You try calling me a bitch, a pussy, a phony, a fake, a punk. Fine go ahead, I’ll call you something then.” “A cunt.” “You’re a cunt, your wife’s a cunt, so fuck you and fuck your world title that your after. I can call you a curtain jerking piece of shit who relies on using big words in order to make himself sound smart. The ONLY reason you are big in this company, is because I wouldn’t suck up to creative, I wouldn’t kiss ass to the powers that be. You sit there and blow them while burying anyone you meet. You bury them so deep into the fucking ground that no one has a chance to take a simple breath, let alone retaliate against you.” ”And you keep hammering and hammering away…” Phenetic starts to rapidly beat his fist into his hand, furiously at first but he calms down soon after. “Pummeling them into the ground even more, sealing them in with a slide of glass like you were Hulk Hogan in WCW. You try to act smarter and more intelligent than the other roster members with your big words straight out of Websters that no one understands, let alone gives a shit about. Looking in the thesaurus for bigger and more complex words for simpler ones to make yourself appear more educated, but in reality…” “You look like a pure moron.” His tone grows more lighter, but in a darker and more twisted manner. He peers right into the camera, almost as if he is brining back haunting memories of Colossus’ past while laughing at them in his face. “I have a knack for knowing what people were like when they were younger, and I can tell who you were Colossus. You were that pimply faced nerd in elementary and middle school who got picked on and shoved into lockers. Don’t try and play us by saying you were a big kid who got along with everyone, you were the punk little bitch who got picked on each and every day. The one who starved at lunch because the bigger kids took his food, you were exactly the type of kid I would push around and make them cry and shit themselves.” “And now I get too do it again.” He pauses, smirking his smug smile at the thought of it. “I’m going to bring out that scared little child of yours that still burrowed deep inside you, who is afraid of being released. Because when you were in middle school you thought that maybe if you studied the dictionary you could confuse the bullies and make them go away, but it didn’t fly in High School. Did it Alex? Once you got in high school it was a whole new ball game, and that pizza face wasn’t letting up any time soon was it? So what did you do? You popped in a tape of Jon Belushi and came up with some witty comebacks and jokes.” “You became a class clown.” “You made people laugh with you before they laughed at you and once you were able to grab a bottle of proactive and a couple muscle milk shakes, you didn’t need it anymore. But once you became a wrestler, and I use that term VERY loosely, you were afraid of the same bullies picking on you again. You give Chain a false hope by having him follow you, a real ‘man’ right? I see through your deceit, your no man, you’re a pussy with a gun, a scared little boy, the same little pussy who hid under the jungle gym reading Nancy Drew.” Phenetic’s tone goes normal and more serious this time, he looks into the camera with his beating eyes, ready for War Games right then and there. “Joke time is over now Alex…” “You want too step in the ring with me? Fine go ahead, this will be just like Fusion One Night Stand where I straight up fucking murdered you. I’ll use your skull as a stepping stone into the main event, and right into Immortals. Because this isn’t high school, there is no class clowns here, there is simply War Games…” “And rape is imminent…” Phenetic drops the mic and simply chuckles before walking off, dropping the microphone as the scene faces. |
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| Phenetic | May 22 2010, 01:00 AM Post #3 |
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Killed BQ
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To whom it may concern: It has come to my attention that a certain gentleman was upset at the verbal treatment he received by my lips one evening past. The selfsame gentleman is also terrified of polysyllabic words--that is, those words containing more than one syllable--so I feel it a breach of etiquette to continue castigating him in such a style. From here on out, I shall abuse him with only words that he can understand, like "rape," "Nancy Drew," and "punk little bitch." First of all--I was a fan of The Hardy Boys, not Miss Drew. I found her arrogant. Also, I enjoyed Choose Your Own Adventure books, because I never lost in them. Oh, going through the blue door leads to the fire dragon and certain death, you say?!? WELL THEN. It seems as though my finger jumped back to the page on which I then chose the RED door. It WAS difficult being a child, though, Phenetic, because I never had the cohesive, loving, and respectful family structure that you had. My mother--gasp--occasionally even read to me and showed an interest in my upbringing. Terrifying, terrifying stuff. The stuff that mushroom-fueled hallucinations are made of. Notice, there, that I ended my sentence with a preposition. To make you feel at home. To welcome you, to allow you to feel warm and fuzzy inside. The Mighty Colossus, failing to follow an elementary--that means basic--rule of grammar. And as for those NAMES I supposedly called you? Good heavens. "You try calling me a bitch, a pussy, a phony, a fake, a punk. Fine go ahead, I’ll call you something then." In all my years, I've never heard such calumny--that's a way of saying slander--against my good name. If you'll do the pleasure of re-watching my talk with Mr. Colson the Cameraman, you'll find not one of those terms used against you. Not once, fine sir. Not ONCE. I mean, you ARE those things, but I never said them. I use bigger words, from Webster's, and I find synonyms for them in Roget's Thesaurus. I memorize these things before I start a promo, because they make me feel big and they allow me to put others down. It makes me feel superior to others to know that I have a high-school education, the ability to read, and some college correspondence courses. I'm like Einstein, but born in America. And sexy. You got me, Phen, you got me. I've only gotten ahead in this company because I do thus and such toward those and who. I have no natural talent, no ability to speak, no connection with the crowd, no friends backstage, no ability to wrestle a damn fine match, and no business being with the BQWA. I can't believe that senior managment hasn't fired me ten times over. Especially in this economy! How much dead weight loss is this company taking on because of me?!? I'm like a resources black hole--that's a science-y thing that absorbs light and matter, which is the stuff that makes all stuff exist in physical form--and I bring no practical benefits to the table. I should apologize to the entire roster for cashing my paycheck every two weeks, and I should donate my last year's earnings to a charity of your choice--say, Cokeheads International, which does absolutely phenomenal work with underprivileged children in Bogota. Which is the capital of Colombia. I found that out in Encyclopedia Britannica. Which I read in school. After the bullies were done shoving me into lockers. Sometimes, DURING that! But I assumed you knew that already, since you've pieced together my life's history like a somehow even more retarded David Caruso. If I had had you around earlier in my life, I wouldn't have had to spend all those thousands of fictional dollars at the therapist's office, crying to Dr. What'sHisFace about my traumatic this, my childhood that, and my inability to form intimate relationships with anyone because of my Victim Complex Martyr Syndrome Bullying Symptom Response Thingy. I spent $23,000 Monopoly dollars on Fauxzac, Phenetic! Do you REALIZE how many fucking orange bills that is?!? I mortgaged that awesome green property, Illinois Avenue, AND my Get Out of Jail Free card just to get 2 and a half months' worth of Fauxzac. To deal with my crippling, crippling depression at not being half the man you were, are, and will be; to fight off the demons of my haunting World Title win; to get through the crushing tedium that is daily conversation with my stupid ol' loving wife; and to sit through all of the Jon Belushi tapes I had bought on a whim when I was younger and had to watch in order to become a class clown like you pointed out. Do you know how hard it was to watch those tapes, Phen, and then to come to work years later and be lectured by a guy who is my physical, mental, and emotional superior? Do you know how hard it is to have to listen to you, the top dog in this company, after you've just watched tapes of a comedian who died of a drug overdose? Do you know how hard I have to bite my lip to not point out how fucking stupid you are for making that reference after having more snow in your nose over the past few years than a skiing party of Sonny Bono and that lady actress who died a few weeks ago? BUT I DO IT, PHEN! I do it for my culture! To let 'em know what a n***a look like, when a n***a in a roaster! I do it after I blow Creative, keep wrestlers down who are more talented than me, and use big words that no one else understands or cares about. This is my life, Phen. And I need you to help me get past my repeated failures on the biggest stages of our business. I need wrestling advice from the man who beat Whacko at Immortals, the guy who kicked my ass and got the pin at One Last Call, the tough S.O.B. who did that one thing that one night with the dudes and the Madison Square something or other that everyone remembers like it was 9/11 times a trillion billion. What I'm saying, Phen, is that I need you. I need you to show me where I'm wrong, where I can be a better husband, father when I'm ready, son to my parents, upstanding citizen to these United States of America. Don't let the terrorists win, Phenetic. Bring out the "scared little child" in me, Phen. Nurture that boy. Rock him in your arms and promise him that everything will be okay. Do that for me, please. Let me know...that the world is a fundamentally decent place. Educate me about how I can make unintelligible gibberish and various psychoses work for ME. Dammit, Phenetic. Do it for the children. Do it for the March of Dimes. Do it for Lance Armstong, the dude who landed the plane in the Hudson, and for America's troops. But above all, Phen--since I'm the most important creature walking God's green earth--do it for me. Me, me, me, me, me. Me. Let me learn from you, if only for a day. An hour. A minute. A second of your time. It's all I ask. Please. For President Obama's new puppy...do it. Jesus, Phen. Just do it, will ya? Yours in faith, hope, and love, Alex Kingman Sent on the 16th day of April, in the 2009th year of Our Lord P.S. I always dot my lowercase "i"s with hearts. |
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| Phenetic | May 22 2010, 01:01 AM Post #4 |
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Killed BQ
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The more things change, the more they stay the same. Same clusterfuck, different fuckers. And what a tangled web the BQWA weaves. To the point, where I honestly don’t know where to begin. Do we start with the boss? Do we start with Johnny Karisma? Johnny, even laid up in a hospital bed, you’ve got some fucking nerve on you. You don’t want our pity? Our sympathy? Motherfucker, we never OFFERED you anything! The only one I feel sorry for in this whole mess is Tara, who you have somehow brainwashed into thinking that – under that cuntish exterior of yours – lies the heart of a gentleman. When, in actual fact, there’s just ten times more cunt! Or do I start with Gogz? Ah, Gogz…our “World Champion”. Shit, we really are all going to hell in a handbasket. I was gonna stand up and say something at your “State of the Federation address”, but there were already plenty of people happy to shoot their mouths off, when I still prefer to do things the old-fashioned way. I keep it short. Quick. To the point. All so I can get my ass out from behind a microphone, and out to a ring, where I can show that not a single person in this company can hang with me, when I’m on my game. Not Karisma, not Murdoch, not Colossus, and especially not you. But, you know what? You’re not the reason I asked for this promo time. Neither was Halo. And neither was Phenetic. Nor Murdoch or Karisma, for that matter. I asked for this promo time to address something that really bothered me. And that was you, Colossus. Now, I already know that the mere mention of your name has you already foaming at the mouth…that overworked brain of yours churning out thoughts that your overworked mouth will turn into “amusing” little soundbites for the cameras. But, for once, I think you actually need to shut the fuck up and listen. And listen good, because I don’t appreciate my advice being ignored. And my advice to you? Don’t fucking disrespect me. See, I was sitting at home the other night, updating my Twitter, checking to see how many points LeBron hung on the Celtics, and seeing what was up at BQWA.com. And - surprise, surprise – there was another monologue by everyone’s favourite blabbermouth, you… So, I clicked the link and listened in. Call it morbid curiosity or something. And, to be fair, it started out ok. You talked about War Games and how much you were looking forward to whooping some ass…your usual standard fare. But, then? Well, then, you crossed a line. More to the point, you crossed MY line. See, in amongst all the hyperbole and self-promotion, you briefly mentioned something about beating me. Now, it’s true…you’ve beaten me in the past. I’m man enough to accept defeat and use it as motivation. But did you give a detailed description of how you beat me? Did you talk about what a worthy opponent I’d been? Like fuck, you did. You dismissed me, then spent ten minutes talking about Phenetic, like that poor schmuck actually matters in the grand scheme of things. You just tossed it in there like some cheap throwaway line from a poor sitcom. I faced Plus. I beat him. Next! Cue laugh track. What, you think you’re fucking Goldberg or something? Big Evil, Kid Disturbed, Cobain, Vinnie Lazarro, Ryan Murdoch, Johnny Karisma, Dan Sorbello, Mavrick…countless others I could mention. At one time or another, I feel fairly safe in stating that they all hated my guts. Hell, most of them probably still do. But they all respected what I did in that squared circle, which seems to be more than I can say for you. Now, if I’m wrong, then please…feel free to apologise for the disrespect at any time. My door’s always open. But know that, respect or disrespect, when we enter that cage at War Games, we may officially represent the same team…but we will NEVER be team-mates. Of course, when the match is over, and it’s my hand raised in victory, I’ll walk over to you and shake your hand. Praise you for your effort. Because I understand respect. But, if I still feel disrespected by you? Then I’ll ask you to say hi to whoever you face in the Immortals dark match. I’ll be too busy preparing to become World Champion again. Maybe then you’ll respect me… |
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| Arsen01 | Dec 4 2017, 08:59 AM Post #5 |
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Newbie
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One of the two “voices” of verbs (see also active voice ). A verb is in the passive voice when the subject of the sentence is acted on by the verb. For example, in “The ball was thrown by the pitcher,” the ball (the subject) receives the action of the verb, and was thrown is in the passive voice. |
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9:16 AM Jul 11