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-- R.I.P. Hulk Hogan and Ozzy Osbourne
R.I.P. Hulk Hogan and Ozzy Osbourne
2 legends in the same week
R.I.P. to part of my childhood
I was too young to see them in their primes, but their names definitely loomed large years later. RIP.
hogan was a piece of shit. fuck him.
It's funny (tragic-funny, not ha-ha funny) how we tell the people we despise to go fuck. As if pleasure were punitive. As if desire were inherently humiliating. As if saying "fuck you" meant we hoped they'd experience something unbearable, rather than, well... deeply enjoyable.
The problem with Hulk Hogan, though, was never underfuckment.
If anything, he was a man of surplus. He made himself larger than life - gruntingly, tannedly, bandana'dly - especially when the cameras were rolling. And, oh, did them cameras roll. When he was caught on video administering some deeply unauthorised Vitamin Brother to his best friend's wife (What you gonna do, brother, when my 2.4-inch python runs wild on you?), he followed it up not with shame, but litigation. He didn't apologise. He suplexed Gawker. He climbed onto the turnbuckle of the American legal system and leg-dropped the First Amendment.
And somehow, it worked. Overfuckment of the overfuckest kind.
He ran wild not just on the site that published the video, but on the very concept of consequences. He proved, in real time, that his brain was thicker than new brain - which is to say, capable of processing only the slogans it had previously shouted.
And still, people said: fuck Hulk Hogan. I can hear the echoes.
But what does it mean "to fuck someone who has already fucked everything in sight"? Who has turned fucking itself into a one-way ritual of conquest and shame, pleasure for one, confusion for all? What could we possibly wish upon him that he hasn't already done to himself, and then filmed?
No. Fucking was never the insult. It was the context. The asymmetry. The soundtrack of a man grunting through life with the self-awareness of a folding chair.
Maybe, just maybe, the real tragedy is that he made something beautiful � connection, touch, the other sort of creamfields � into something everyone else had to clean up. Oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you, there's nothing in this world he wouldn't fuck.
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| Originally posted by Lira It's funny (tragic-funny, not ha-ha funny) how we tell the people we despise to go fuck. As if pleasure were punitive. As if desire were inherently humiliating. As if saying "fuck you" meant we hoped they'd experience something unbearable, rather than, well... deeply enjoyable. The problem with Hulk Hogan, though, was never underfuckment. If anything, he was a man of surplus. He made himself larger than life - gruntingly, tannedly, bandana'dly - especially when the cameras were rolling. And, oh, did them cameras roll. When he was caught on video administering some deeply unauthorised Vitamin Brother to his best friend's wife (What you gonna do, brother, when my 2.4-inch python runs wild on you?), he followed it up not with shame, but litigation. He didn't apologise. He suplexed Gawker. He climbed onto the turnbuckle of the American legal system and leg-dropped the First Amendment. And somehow, it worked. Overfuckment of the overfuckest kind. He ran wild not just on the site that published the video, but on the very concept of consequences. He proved, in real time, that his brain was thicker than new brain - which is to say, capable of processing only the slogans it had previously shouted. And still, people said: fuck Hulk Hogan. I can hear the echoes. But what does it mean "to fuck someone who has already fucked everything in sight"? Who has turned fucking itself into a one-way ritual of conquest and shame, pleasure for one, confusion for all? What could we possibly wish upon him that he hasn't already done to himself, and then filmed? No. Fucking was never the insult. It was the context. The asymmetry. The soundtrack of a man grunting through life with the self-awareness of a folding chair. Maybe, just maybe, the real tragedy is that he made something beautiful � connection, touch, the other sort of creamfields � into something everyone else had to clean up. Oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you, there's nothing in this world he wouldn't fuck. |
Lira has been an adept AI adopter.
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| Originally posted by OrangestO Lira has been an adept AI adopter. |
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| Originally posted by 72hrpartyanimal it's like reading poetry! |
Your copy editor is the poet. Don't forget to buy him a beer.
Man, do you ever like fucking... Talk to yourself and then think "an LLM could be doing this instead"?
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