Post by Deleted on Jul 7, 2011 11:18:25 GMT -6
August 24th, 2008.
The day I opened my eyes and drank in the realities of the world.
I spent my youth dreaming of a world where I could make a difference, a world where I could change things for the better. I always thought that chasing down the undesirable elements of this country I was helping people, granting justice to the vulnerable and bringing people to account for actions.
I was an idealist, a dreamer.
The only undisputable fact is that the world just isn’t fair.
Material wealth and nepotism proved to be a higher commodity than justice in the legal system, a trend that is mirrored throughout society.
No matter how much your parents may tell you, what matters isn’t who you are but what you are. Your worth isn’t measured in your moral aptitude, your inherent talents and your fiscal generosity.
It is measured by how much your talents are worth to somebody else. You can kid yourself all you like into thinking that money doesn’t make the world go round, but the reality is that the more your worth economically, the more you are valued socially.
I used to think that justice wouldn’t bow to any man, that no matter who you are you would be judged equally and fairly in the eyes of the law.
I was wrong.
Anybody out there who thinks that life is fair and that no matter what, the bad guys will always get what is coming to them are living in a fallacy, constructed by their elders to emotionally shield them from the truth.
The bad guys can, and regularly do, win. We can drift away into fantasises of Gotham City and Metropolis all we like, but no matter how much we get down on our knees and pray, there is no super hero waiting to dish out karma on those who upset the moral compass.
For centuries men and women prayed to Gods and Angels to set them free from misery and to right the wrongs of mankind. Evidently, they’ve stopped caring about the plights of humanity and frankly I don’t blame them.
We created a system that favours a few at the expense of the majority. The only people we have to blame is ourselves, for sitting around and just accepting our lot in life, not seeking to better our stake.
August 24th, 2008.
The day I decided to make something of myself. No matter what.
Wisdom; -noun
1. the quality or state of being wise; knowledge of what is true or right coupled with just judgment as to action; sagacity, discernment, or insight.
2. scholarly knowledge or learning
3. wise sayings or teachings; precepts.
You seem to fancy yourself as some sort of wise old sage, dispensing nuggets of wisdom to us mere mortals who cannot possibly fathom the complex inner workings of a self-proclaimed oracle, duty bound to deconstruct each and every one of us from a smug high altar of superiority.
You seem to think that since you walked back into this organisation it is your duty to lavish razor edged approval upon me, all the while foretelling some potential untimely demise. Morose stories of how my potential could go unrecognised and unfulfilled if my choices are not the right ones. Ambiguous critiques of what could come to pass in my future if I tread down a path you seemingly do not approve of.
You seem to think that I give a damn about what you have to say.
Listen Mr Miyagi, whilst I am flattered that you have the mental capacity to understand that I am not just some cocksure little upstart, I sure as hell don’t need your approval or guidance to make something of myself.
I don’t need you to take me under your wing, nurturing me from afar before inevitably pecking my eyes out to leave me blind to the realities of what is going on here. I know exactly how you operate Docherty, so forgive me for not going all gooey over your tainted sessions of praise.
I know that in your world there is only one person who matters. I know that whilst you may respect me, you would do anything in your power to destroy me if you were given the opportunity. I know that deep down inside you fear me.
I am the next big thing, you know it, the fans know it and begrudgingly the guys in the back are having to accept that they know it.
You know that whilst ever I am around your own self-interests are hindered. You know that if I ever rise up and achieve my potential there isn’t a damn thing that you, Rob Diamond, Angel, Leonard Fox or anybody else can do stop me becoming the single greatest competitor to have ever graced these hallways.
All this posturing and thinly-veiled politics is just hiding your insecurities. This talk of the X-Championship not meaning anything, how the Honor Championship is just an accessory for the egomaniacal. It’s just to cover up you growing doubts.
Has Doc still got it? Can Doc compete with the new breed of wrestler that graces the NCW? Can Doc possibly stop me?
We both know the answer to that. So whilst you can keep asking questions about my potential, let me ask you a question.
How can a man who is so full of wisdom be so naïve?
Enigma; -noun, plural.
1. a puzzling or inexplicable occurance of situation.
2. a person of puzzling or contradictory character
3. a saying, question, picture etc. containing a hidden meaning; a riddle.
Riddle me this, Famularo. When exactly is the “real” Xander going to stand up and prove that he is more than a 6’ 4” joke? When is he going step out from behind the shadow of his father and show the world why he was the 2011 Gladiator? Can anybody answer me this? No one?
A few weeks ago Xander you were full of gusto and blew a hell of a lot of hot air in my general direction. Tall tales of a relentless pursuit of the X-Championship; grand sagas of how you would rip the belt from my cold, dead, hands and jovial fables about the sudden and violent destruction of the Young Guns.
Fast forward a few weeks and I am still the X-Champion, my only real opposition seemingly arriving in the form of mentally deranged attention whore with a severe bi-polar disorder.
Where is this unstoppable force that I just cannot withstand? Where is this immovable object that is coming to rip my prestige away from me? Where is the man who destroyed five other men inside the Colliseum? Where is Xander Famularo?
He isn’t chasing me down and proving himself to be a real champion. He isn’t rampaging through NCW, breaking anybody who stands in his path. He isn’t posing anything approaching a real threat to my title reign.
I will tell you exactly where he is. He is wasting his time aligning himself with a group of delusional men who have no real sense of unity.
Trent Helms has just declared to the world just how much faith and belief he has in Flashbang, offering your heads on a plate for his own personal advancement.
Todd Williams has once again disappeared into his shell since I shut him up, again. He’s about as reliable as a paper umbrella.
Alex Jones? He is about the only man in your motley crew that can be taken remotely serious and even then it is only because he has the National Championship wrapped around him, there is nothing else about him that is in any way remarkable.
Where is the unity? The well engrained belief in one another’s ability? Where the hell is the belief that a group of men thrust together are going to destroy the Young Guns coming from?
Nothing you four men have done in recent weeks has shaken my belief that Flashbang is anything but a culmination of Angel’s desperate intent to rip the Young Guns apart. You’re all pawns in his game, bit part players in his great scheme.
Care to prove me wrong?
Purpose; noun, verb.
1. -noun; the reason for which something exists or is done, made, used, etc.
2. verb; to have a purpose.
What exactly is your purpose these days Falcon? I see a man who has just completed a century of victories in recent weeks, yet I also see a man who seemingly is content with just…existing.
You’ve held pretty much every belt that really cements a man in a company’s legacy, you’ve competed in so many matches it is hard to keep count and you’ve stood toe-to-toe with the very best this business has to offer.
Yet, nowadays it seems that you have lost the edge that made you the man you are. You seem to have lost the drive that struck fear in the hearts of your equals. You seem to have accepted your place as part of the furniture around this joint.
Are you happy just being a mentor? Just another veteran passing on his knowledge of the business to fresher talent? Becoming just another tired old cliché and worn out stereotype?
Are you happy just sitting there from afar bestowing praise upon the latest hot property that has walked through the door? Singing the praises of Bob Pooler and his rumoured abilities?
What has happened to you Falcon? Have you just run out of things to do here? Accomplished every goal you need to? Achieved everything that you have ever dreamt of?
You seem to simply be content with all of your glories these days, happy tutoring Simon Daye in some sort of attempt to mould him into a competitive pro-wrestler, to earn his stripes. You seem happy to just sit back and pick and choose your next challenges.
You know what? I understand that a man like you is happy to just pick his own battles and make his own decisions. After doing so much in this business, perhaps it is your right to decide what you do with your career and how your twilight years should pan out. I just don’t get it.
Why do you seem so satisfied with what you’ve got? Where is your passion to not only be a hall of famer but the first names on any trainees lips? The man who epitomises this company and the business as a whole? Are you happy being just another great, when you could be an icon?
Why are you happy when you know that glorified drag queen is parading around the World Championship that he took from you? That jackass didn’t earn his belt, he simply aligned himself with the single most decisive element in the NCW today by slinking into her bed. Why aren’t you tearing Rob Diamond a new one and tossing him back down to the cesspit he crawled out of?
Perhaps you think I don’t know what on earth I am talking about, perhaps you really do have everything mapped out in your head and perhaps you really will do something to make the rest of the roster sit up and take notice again. Perhaps.
The problem is, I just don’t think you have a purpose anymore Falcon.
Teamwork; -noun
1. cooperative or coordinated effort on the part of a group of persons acting together as a team or in the interests of a common cause.
2. work done with a team.
Kristoff. Robert. I don’t know anything about you but this week our fates are intertwined and my personal progression is bound to your actions. It is a position that I do not particularly embrace with open arms, but it isn’t one that I will shy away from.
I know how this business works, untested partnerships thrown together for the amusement of baying audiences, waiting to see how men who are unfamiliar with one another will operate. I get it. It doesn’t mean that I like it.
The fact is that I have no real problems with either of you, yet. Neither of you have done anything that particularly offends me and you both seem to possess at least a reasonable level of competence that exceeds the levels of the majority of the roster here. Just remember that when you walk down to that ring that this a collaborative effort, despite any misgivings any of us may have about one another.
For one week only we will have to work together to achieve a greater aim. We have to excel as a unit to prevent individual embarrassment at the hands of Falcon, Doc and Famularo. I know that despite my own feelings towards these sort of fixtures, I will go out there and drag this rag tag mismatch to victory.
All I demand is that you drop your egos at the door, because your own self-interests are only going to benefit if we work together. This week it isn’t about Roberto Verona, Bob Pooler or KLB. It is about Roberto Verona, Bob Pooler and KLB.
Vive La Révolution.
The day I opened my eyes and drank in the realities of the world.
I spent my youth dreaming of a world where I could make a difference, a world where I could change things for the better. I always thought that chasing down the undesirable elements of this country I was helping people, granting justice to the vulnerable and bringing people to account for actions.
I was an idealist, a dreamer.
The only undisputable fact is that the world just isn’t fair.
Material wealth and nepotism proved to be a higher commodity than justice in the legal system, a trend that is mirrored throughout society.
No matter how much your parents may tell you, what matters isn’t who you are but what you are. Your worth isn’t measured in your moral aptitude, your inherent talents and your fiscal generosity.
It is measured by how much your talents are worth to somebody else. You can kid yourself all you like into thinking that money doesn’t make the world go round, but the reality is that the more your worth economically, the more you are valued socially.
I used to think that justice wouldn’t bow to any man, that no matter who you are you would be judged equally and fairly in the eyes of the law.
I was wrong.
Anybody out there who thinks that life is fair and that no matter what, the bad guys will always get what is coming to them are living in a fallacy, constructed by their elders to emotionally shield them from the truth.
The bad guys can, and regularly do, win. We can drift away into fantasises of Gotham City and Metropolis all we like, but no matter how much we get down on our knees and pray, there is no super hero waiting to dish out karma on those who upset the moral compass.
For centuries men and women prayed to Gods and Angels to set them free from misery and to right the wrongs of mankind. Evidently, they’ve stopped caring about the plights of humanity and frankly I don’t blame them.
We created a system that favours a few at the expense of the majority. The only people we have to blame is ourselves, for sitting around and just accepting our lot in life, not seeking to better our stake.
August 24th, 2008.
The day I decided to make something of myself. No matter what.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wisdom; -noun
1. the quality or state of being wise; knowledge of what is true or right coupled with just judgment as to action; sagacity, discernment, or insight.
2. scholarly knowledge or learning
3. wise sayings or teachings; precepts.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You seem to fancy yourself as some sort of wise old sage, dispensing nuggets of wisdom to us mere mortals who cannot possibly fathom the complex inner workings of a self-proclaimed oracle, duty bound to deconstruct each and every one of us from a smug high altar of superiority.
You seem to think that since you walked back into this organisation it is your duty to lavish razor edged approval upon me, all the while foretelling some potential untimely demise. Morose stories of how my potential could go unrecognised and unfulfilled if my choices are not the right ones. Ambiguous critiques of what could come to pass in my future if I tread down a path you seemingly do not approve of.
You seem to think that I give a damn about what you have to say.
Listen Mr Miyagi, whilst I am flattered that you have the mental capacity to understand that I am not just some cocksure little upstart, I sure as hell don’t need your approval or guidance to make something of myself.
I don’t need you to take me under your wing, nurturing me from afar before inevitably pecking my eyes out to leave me blind to the realities of what is going on here. I know exactly how you operate Docherty, so forgive me for not going all gooey over your tainted sessions of praise.
I know that in your world there is only one person who matters. I know that whilst you may respect me, you would do anything in your power to destroy me if you were given the opportunity. I know that deep down inside you fear me.
I am the next big thing, you know it, the fans know it and begrudgingly the guys in the back are having to accept that they know it.
You know that whilst ever I am around your own self-interests are hindered. You know that if I ever rise up and achieve my potential there isn’t a damn thing that you, Rob Diamond, Angel, Leonard Fox or anybody else can do stop me becoming the single greatest competitor to have ever graced these hallways.
All this posturing and thinly-veiled politics is just hiding your insecurities. This talk of the X-Championship not meaning anything, how the Honor Championship is just an accessory for the egomaniacal. It’s just to cover up you growing doubts.
Has Doc still got it? Can Doc compete with the new breed of wrestler that graces the NCW? Can Doc possibly stop me?
We both know the answer to that. So whilst you can keep asking questions about my potential, let me ask you a question.
How can a man who is so full of wisdom be so naïve?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Enigma; -noun, plural.
1. a puzzling or inexplicable occurance of situation.
2. a person of puzzling or contradictory character
3. a saying, question, picture etc. containing a hidden meaning; a riddle.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Riddle me this, Famularo. When exactly is the “real” Xander going to stand up and prove that he is more than a 6’ 4” joke? When is he going step out from behind the shadow of his father and show the world why he was the 2011 Gladiator? Can anybody answer me this? No one?
A few weeks ago Xander you were full of gusto and blew a hell of a lot of hot air in my general direction. Tall tales of a relentless pursuit of the X-Championship; grand sagas of how you would rip the belt from my cold, dead, hands and jovial fables about the sudden and violent destruction of the Young Guns.
Fast forward a few weeks and I am still the X-Champion, my only real opposition seemingly arriving in the form of mentally deranged attention whore with a severe bi-polar disorder.
Where is this unstoppable force that I just cannot withstand? Where is this immovable object that is coming to rip my prestige away from me? Where is the man who destroyed five other men inside the Colliseum? Where is Xander Famularo?
He isn’t chasing me down and proving himself to be a real champion. He isn’t rampaging through NCW, breaking anybody who stands in his path. He isn’t posing anything approaching a real threat to my title reign.
I will tell you exactly where he is. He is wasting his time aligning himself with a group of delusional men who have no real sense of unity.
Trent Helms has just declared to the world just how much faith and belief he has in Flashbang, offering your heads on a plate for his own personal advancement.
Todd Williams has once again disappeared into his shell since I shut him up, again. He’s about as reliable as a paper umbrella.
Alex Jones? He is about the only man in your motley crew that can be taken remotely serious and even then it is only because he has the National Championship wrapped around him, there is nothing else about him that is in any way remarkable.
Where is the unity? The well engrained belief in one another’s ability? Where the hell is the belief that a group of men thrust together are going to destroy the Young Guns coming from?
Nothing you four men have done in recent weeks has shaken my belief that Flashbang is anything but a culmination of Angel’s desperate intent to rip the Young Guns apart. You’re all pawns in his game, bit part players in his great scheme.
Care to prove me wrong?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Purpose; noun, verb.
1. -noun; the reason for which something exists or is done, made, used, etc.
2. verb; to have a purpose.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
What exactly is your purpose these days Falcon? I see a man who has just completed a century of victories in recent weeks, yet I also see a man who seemingly is content with just…existing.
You’ve held pretty much every belt that really cements a man in a company’s legacy, you’ve competed in so many matches it is hard to keep count and you’ve stood toe-to-toe with the very best this business has to offer.
Yet, nowadays it seems that you have lost the edge that made you the man you are. You seem to have lost the drive that struck fear in the hearts of your equals. You seem to have accepted your place as part of the furniture around this joint.
Are you happy just being a mentor? Just another veteran passing on his knowledge of the business to fresher talent? Becoming just another tired old cliché and worn out stereotype?
Are you happy just sitting there from afar bestowing praise upon the latest hot property that has walked through the door? Singing the praises of Bob Pooler and his rumoured abilities?
What has happened to you Falcon? Have you just run out of things to do here? Accomplished every goal you need to? Achieved everything that you have ever dreamt of?
You seem to simply be content with all of your glories these days, happy tutoring Simon Daye in some sort of attempt to mould him into a competitive pro-wrestler, to earn his stripes. You seem happy to just sit back and pick and choose your next challenges.
You know what? I understand that a man like you is happy to just pick his own battles and make his own decisions. After doing so much in this business, perhaps it is your right to decide what you do with your career and how your twilight years should pan out. I just don’t get it.
Why do you seem so satisfied with what you’ve got? Where is your passion to not only be a hall of famer but the first names on any trainees lips? The man who epitomises this company and the business as a whole? Are you happy being just another great, when you could be an icon?
Why are you happy when you know that glorified drag queen is parading around the World Championship that he took from you? That jackass didn’t earn his belt, he simply aligned himself with the single most decisive element in the NCW today by slinking into her bed. Why aren’t you tearing Rob Diamond a new one and tossing him back down to the cesspit he crawled out of?
Perhaps you think I don’t know what on earth I am talking about, perhaps you really do have everything mapped out in your head and perhaps you really will do something to make the rest of the roster sit up and take notice again. Perhaps.
The problem is, I just don’t think you have a purpose anymore Falcon.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Teamwork; -noun
1. cooperative or coordinated effort on the part of a group of persons acting together as a team or in the interests of a common cause.
2. work done with a team.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kristoff. Robert. I don’t know anything about you but this week our fates are intertwined and my personal progression is bound to your actions. It is a position that I do not particularly embrace with open arms, but it isn’t one that I will shy away from.
I know how this business works, untested partnerships thrown together for the amusement of baying audiences, waiting to see how men who are unfamiliar with one another will operate. I get it. It doesn’t mean that I like it.
The fact is that I have no real problems with either of you, yet. Neither of you have done anything that particularly offends me and you both seem to possess at least a reasonable level of competence that exceeds the levels of the majority of the roster here. Just remember that when you walk down to that ring that this a collaborative effort, despite any misgivings any of us may have about one another.
For one week only we will have to work together to achieve a greater aim. We have to excel as a unit to prevent individual embarrassment at the hands of Falcon, Doc and Famularo. I know that despite my own feelings towards these sort of fixtures, I will go out there and drag this rag tag mismatch to victory.
All I demand is that you drop your egos at the door, because your own self-interests are only going to benefit if we work together. This week it isn’t about Roberto Verona, Bob Pooler or KLB. It is about Roberto Verona, Bob Pooler and KLB.
Vive La Révolution.