Dr. Ding Weighs In
Just a closing thought for today.
Dr. Ding has recently learned that anabolic steroid use is increasingly common amongst many professional wrestlers.
My question to you, gentle reader: Why on earth would wrestlers who wrestle under the aegis of the WWE, with the “E” standing for entertainment, need to use steroids?
When I was a kid, we called it “wrasslin” and we liked our wrasslers to be large-but-slightly-pudgy, with fairly average levels of muscle definition. We knew that the folding chairs bashed over the heads of rival wrasslers were designed to fall apart on impact, and we liked the whole cheesy, oft-mulleted, even cartoonish spectacle of these pointedly farcical and flop-sweated “matches,” which pitted Sgt. Slaughter against The Honky Tonk Man for chrissakes. In powder-blue tights! With glitter racing stripes on them, people! It was like watching the 1982 Atlanta Braves go shirtless in a disco; lots of preening, some spitting and belching, man-boobs a-flyin’. Marvelously inane.
Bu what the hell is going on here?
When did wrasslers turn into roided-out, humorless, overdeveloped psuedo-demons with malignantly narcissistic delusions of actual athleticism?
WWE.
WTF?
She May Be Out There Where The Buses Don’t Run…But She Rawks.
The Internet is the Goddess — Roseanne
“Watch as she will expose hypocrisy, restrain untruth, bring data and information in a revolution only prayed for over the last ten thousand years of human history… breaking down the barriers between the human being and the highest knowledge… no priest, no state, no pope, no shaman needed any longer… the death of darkness, a new renaissance, a true renaissance, where light waves bounce off of transmitters and beam a billion transmissions to a billion different locations at once.. this is magic, true magic….she brings us the human will focused, and directed, she brings us evolution of the highest order, she brings us all the gifts of the ark of the covenant… information is god, and god is mind…the goddess is matter itself.”
Kickin’ Out Tha Jams
Well people, it’s really been far too long hasn’t it? The world clearly needs Dr. Ding to guide them. I mean cripes, look at all the nasty stuff that’s happened just in the few short months since last we met here on the bracingly pointed shores of DingLand! Murder and mayhem, war and general idiocy. Thank The Lords of Kobol* I returned, and not a moment too soon!
In case you’re wondering, no, I haven’t been off in some incense-inhaling stratosphere gazing at crystals and dressing like Enya, but I can seem how the theme of my last post might have fooled you into thinking I was off chasing my bliss whilst grooving to the mellow sounds of John Tesh and pondering what sort of spiritual identifier to choose so as to better commune with my angelic friends. Star Chylde? Light Blower? Misty Silverbooger? Anne Heche already took my all-time favorite New Age moniker, “Celestia” during her last Exstacy-fueled megalomaniacal bender, so that was right out. Ah but I kid.
I’ve been working.
A lot.
Been seeing around ten or twelve Old Peeps a day on average. Loving it! It’s strange and wonderful and I feel quite richer for the experience so far. I am locum tenens for some practitioners who are either on leave or just outright fired, and I’m not at all sure I can keep this pace up more than another month or so, but it’s been immensely gratifying and interesting. It has also cut into my free time considerably and I will be glad when life resumes a less hectic pace and I can inflict my musings upon you all again! blog with impunity!
So for now, I hope you’re all enjoying your summers, wearing outlandish Hawaiian boardshorts cum-1985, and putting lots of Sun-In in your collective hair.
Don’t forget to send me your questions, concerns, and overwhelmingly neurotic issues. Especially the overwhelmingly neurotic issues.
* I don’t really know what to say here. It’s a Battlestar Galactica reference. Either you get it or you don’t.