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Steve Likes to Curse
Writing, comics and random thoughts from really a rather vulgar man
The madness of the Ultimate Warrior, revisited 
Wednesday, January 3rd, 2007 | 12:00 pm [commentary, wrestling]

Pro wrestling is a sick business.  Look no further than the endless list of men who have died prematurely as a direct or indirect result of their wrestling careers:  Brian Pillman, Rick Rude, Gary Albright, Eddie Gilbert, Curt Hennig, Chris Candido, Davy Boy Smith, Owen Hart and Eddie Guerrero, just to name a few.  Then there are those like Darren Drozdov or Tom Billington, still-young men crippled by a freak accident in the ring, or years of high-impact matches.  Pro wrestling’s tragedies are many, but there’s perhaps none sadder than the sorry tale of Jim Hellwig.  Is he dead?  No.  Crippled?  No – quite able-bodied, in fact.  The tragedy of the Ultimate Warrior is that wrestling drove him completely insane.


Since his in-ring career sputtered to an overdue halt – his last high profile match was against Hulk Hogan at WCW’s Halloween Havoc pay-per-view in October 1998 and is generally considered to have been one of the worst matches in history – his most frequent public comments have come on his website, which he recently redesigned and relaunched, to the delight of his many detractors and one or two remaining genuine fans.  He also travels the country from time to time, giving motivational speeches to college students where he warns them of the dangers of moral relativism and homosexuality.  This is the guy who used to run to the ring, face brightly painted, body well-oiled, and shake the ropes with streamers tied to his arms.  I wrote an article a few months ago about one of his speeches, at the University of Connecticut, and his general descent into slobbering madness, but with the relaunch of his “online presence” I think an update is in order.


Click on the “enter” button on his front page and you are taken to his shiny new blog, Warrior’s Machete.  “Ockham had his Razor,” a subtitle explains.  “He Shaved with Delicacy.  I Sever with Blunt Force.”  Clever.  Warrior is a very intelligent man.  I know this because, with every sentence written on his website, Warrior positions himself an inch or so from my face and shouts at maximum volume, “I’M A VERY INTELLIGENT MAN!”  Read a bit and it’s obvious that for Warrior, intelligence = word count.  Why settle for a sentence with seven or eight paragraphs will do?  His most recent blog post, from December 15, features a vague and uncharacteristically short rant against religion, followed by a protracted sales pitch for his new line of clothing, Team Warrior America Wear.  What the fuck is Team Warrior America Wear?  Warrior is glad you asked:


This Team Warrior America logo symbolizes more than just the identity of the positive, inspiring, Superhero sports entertainment persona I created and performed, Ultimate Warrior. It also symbolizes what participating in that unique masculine, physical sport taught me about myself as a man and a human being (my beliefs, my principles, my disciplines), what I experienced and learned about the cultural impact and powerful influence of role-modeling, and how all these life lessons together inspired me to move on to an even more empowering phase of my life searching for, studying and learning all I could about historical real-life heroes and classical mentoring.


These must be some stylin’ threads, eh?  He goes on a bit:


This Team Warrior America logo is my OWN reflective and humbled tribute to those heroes, The Founders of America, and the respect, reverence and loyalty I have for all the classical principles, beliefs, virtues and human conduct embodied in the intellectual brilliance, physical fortitude and spiritual integrity they so magnanimously illustrated.


Team Warrior America Wear is not for everyone. Sure, the shirts come in different sizes to fit every size of body, but your principles and courage better be large and muscular enough to stand up and defend the statement this logo makes. There are, after all, piecemeal patriots — and, then, there are Warrior Patriots.


So it symbolizes his physical and spiritual growth as a result of being a pro wrestler, and it’s a heartfelt tribute to the bravery, wisdom and all-around human perfection of our Founding Fathers – what must these awesome articles of clothing look like?  Surely our eyes will be inadequate to behold them:


Astonishing how much it looks like a t-shirt, isn’t it?  If only we could see it as it truly was, through Warrior Eyes.


He also takes a moment in the same post to shill his exercise program, the Warrior Workout START kit.  It’s quite a pitch he has, too:  “Great gift for the fat or out of shape or unhealthy person on your holiday shopping list.  Make this the last year you have to be uncomfortable telling your fat relative (or spouse) to move their ass so you can around it.”  Intelligent and compassionate.  Too bad he’s already married, eh, ladies?


One post down, in an article put up the day before, Warrior treats us to his thoughts on the Ted Haggard fiasco:


It’s not enough punishment that this pervert has been ousted.  He should be castrated and then nailed to a cross in his own church this next Sunday morning.  Anybody who truly believed in a Creator would want this, too.


Not that I’m Haggard’s number one fan – I thought he was a piece of shit before he was outed as a drug addict and solicitor of prostitutes – but did the guy really do anything that warrants public castration and crucifixion?  He cheated on his wife, betrayed his family, snorted some meth and paid another man to suck his cock after denouncing such activities before his congregation, thus joining the already swollen ranks of religious hypocrites – he’s an asshole, he’s the scum of the fucking earth.  But he didn’t kill anybody, he didn’t rape anybody, other than the public embarrassment he brought to family and flock he hasn’t harmed anyone other than himself, so why does Warrior want Haggard to get the Jesus Special?


Because Warrior is a huge homophobe.  And, as I mentioned earlier, he’s totally fucking out of his mind.  Later in that same article he justifies his sweeping denunciation of organized religion with this little piece of madness:  “How can I say such things?  God.  He’s right here next to me.  Go ahead, ask Him.  Hey, Man…get out of there.  Look, God, stay out of my Power Bars.  You’ve had enough today.  I know You supply me with my incredible, unflappable belief and confidence, but You don’t exactly pay any of my bills when You come around here hanging out.”


He’s not crazy because he really believes he’s talking to God; he’s crazy because he thinks he’s funny.  Which he is, in the “point at and laugh” fashion which Warrior himself probably employs to ridicule everyone who is beneath him – the out-of-shape, the religious, the educated, the coherent, the pithy, the eloquent, the humble – all the real losers.
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