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I’m exhausted... I’m angry... I’m so fucking sad...
I can't believe they think we're this dense. Do they think we don't watch the promos? The sepia-filtered replays of every single instance of cheating and indiscretion in this industry? They honestly think we're so stupid just because we don't notice opportunists as they commit atrocities in this sport. I have to deal with an ass of a wrestler who won't let go of a submission hold, I have to scold that son of a bitch even though he's been here for decades while his partner punches the opponent, and I can't do anything about it. All of these undeserved championships, all of these disqualifications that should have happened... NOWHERE.
And honestly, what is with our uniforms? Black and white stripes? What year is it? No other combat sport still uses this kind of nonsense. I honestly couldn't care less, but don't I have a right to be angry? Don't we have a say? What are we even here for if these matches are predetermined anyway? Why do we have to constantly put our right arms through this kind of abuse?
Do we even have a name anymore?
Even MMA has referees that are named by the announcers and all they have to wear are very professional looking all black. They don't wear the crap we wear. Big John McCarthy, Dan Miragliota, Herb Dean, Mario Yamasaki, Steve Mazzagatti. Household names, ALL of them, no matter their reputation. Does anyone know any of us? Do they recognize our faces? Do they even bother to render each of us in the video games? Where's OUR well deserved attention? Where's OUR models in the games?
We don't hold any authority. We don't make the decisions in the match in which it's supposed to be our job to enforce the rules. We are faceless, nameless drones...
I don't know anymore... I don't know how much more I can take... I’ve been living a lie...
I can’t feel my arm... I can’t feel anything anymore...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A torn diary entry of a WWE referee, found next to his corpse, hanging by the neck in a basement.
I can't believe they think we're this dense. Do they think we don't watch the promos? The sepia-filtered replays of every single instance of cheating and indiscretion in this industry? They honestly think we're so stupid just because we don't notice opportunists as they commit atrocities in this sport. I have to deal with an ass of a wrestler who won't let go of a submission hold, I have to scold that son of a bitch even though he's been here for decades while his partner punches the opponent, and I can't do anything about it. All of these undeserved championships, all of these disqualifications that should have happened... NOWHERE.
And honestly, what is with our uniforms? Black and white stripes? What year is it? No other combat sport still uses this kind of nonsense. I honestly couldn't care less, but don't I have a right to be angry? Don't we have a say? What are we even here for if these matches are predetermined anyway? Why do we have to constantly put our right arms through this kind of abuse?
Do we even have a name anymore?
Even MMA has referees that are named by the announcers and all they have to wear are very professional looking all black. They don't wear the crap we wear. Big John McCarthy, Dan Miragliota, Herb Dean, Mario Yamasaki, Steve Mazzagatti. Household names, ALL of them, no matter their reputation. Does anyone know any of us? Do they recognize our faces? Do they even bother to render each of us in the video games? Where's OUR well deserved attention? Where's OUR models in the games?
We don't hold any authority. We don't make the decisions in the match in which it's supposed to be our job to enforce the rules. We are faceless, nameless drones...
I don't know anymore... I don't know how much more I can take... I’ve been living a lie...
I can’t feel my arm... I can’t feel anything anymore...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A torn diary entry of a WWE referee, found next to his corpse, hanging by the neck in a basement.
Another dark side to sports entertainment.
© 2017 - 2024 AnarchistSubHuman
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