X-Men ’97 S2: the speedrun continues

As part of my holiday weekend, I had the luxury of being able to do something I hadn’t really done in a long time, which was to sit down and simply shotgun a show.  I had X-Men ’97 season 2 on my list of things to watch, and I admittedly drug my feet a little starting it, mostly because I had such questionable feelings about the first season of the reboot.

Primarily the fact that the pace of the show moved at a breakneck speed, rushing through a number of arcs that in the comics would’ve been 5-9 months worth of storylines, somehow condensed and absolutely blown through in a single episode, and sometimes two, when they’re rushing right into the next one without any sort of pallet cleansing.

So after sitting down and watching all of S2 of X97, I can say that nothing changed, and the show picked right up going 280 mph, and covering at least five notable arcs and touching on at least two others, within the span of nine 30-minute episodes, which seeing that in writing is absolutely bonkers.  To my recollection, they dealt with Days of Future Past, X-Cutioner’s Song, X-Tinction Agenda, Fatal Attractions, that one arc surrounding the Brood, and a couple of other arcs that I don’t remember the names to and can’t really reference the plot without giving things away.

The series moves so fast between everything that it’s difficult to breathe, and I admittedly like to glance at my phone sometimes when I’m lazily imbibing in television, but I can’t really do that with X97 because they’re cramming so much context into every second of the episodes, that I found myself having to constantly rewind 10-20 seconds to figure out what’s going on before punting on multitasking.

It actually becomes comical just how fast they’re moving, because there are events that happened in the last episode of season 1, and they come full circle in 4-5 episodes in season 2, which was funny to me, because it took nearly three years in the comic books from event A and event B occurring, with a tremendous amount of fleshing out and making some interesting storylines in between.

The Brood are basically reduced to a single episode, and Apocalypse’s Horseman of Death is limited to the final 2.5 episodes of the season, and the crazy thing is that by this point, I became very casual with my following of X-Men comics, and even still I think that these were rushed to the moon and I can’t believe just how rapid-fire the series executes.

That being said, I’m not sure I’m going to continue watching future seasons should there be more coming.  It’s absolutely nothing like the FOX Kids cartoon from the actual 90s, that gave episodes time to breathe, and for viewers to develop rapport and attachment to characters.  I know all the players, but the show doesn’t really ever stop to let viewers care about anyone that the show isn’t intending on you to focus on.  It’s clear the show has a real big hard-on for Rogue, and Gambit by proxy, and they spent a lot of time on Professor X, and feeding into the current narrative of his general slow burn character assassination of today, seeing as how Charles’ go-to attack tactic is to make his opponents re-live traumatic moments in their lives.

It’s ADHD pace makes me less inclined to want to continue watching it, and seeing as how the show is close to having caught up to as far as in the general X-Men comic arcs that I actually followed, it might not be a bad place for me to bail on the show, seeing as how I’d be missing things that I hadn’t even known existed, so out of sight, out of mind.

Batman: Caped Crusader – tf did Alfred do to deserve all this disrespect?

When it comes to mediums outside of comic books, it’s no secret that DC Comics has struggled bringing to life most of their property, regardless of how iconic, how much potential and how much of a layup it really should seem.  Fortunately, James Gunn and John Cena seem to be on what I think is a positive direction with a potentially entertaining DC Cinematic Universe akin to what Marvel has accomplished, and I love the idea that Peacemaker, that John fucking Cena seems to be the lynch pin that could be the basis for it all, much like Robert Downey, Jr. did as Iron Man for the MCU.

Animation, has clearly been the strong suit for DC, and they’ve done a pretty good job of bringing stories to life in animated form throughout the years.  The whole saga starting with the Flashpoint Paradox was pretty enjoyable, and of course, a lifelong top-10 possibly top-5 show for me was and always will be, Batman the Animated Series.

It seems kind of surprising that it took nearly two decades for a proper spiritual successor to Batman TAS to come out, but then again, TAS holds up so well that it really didn’t need any successor, but all the same, Batman: Caped Crusader on Amazon Prime has been doing an adequate job of spiritually succeeding TAS, as far as I’m concerned.  It doesn’t hurt that Bruce Timm is back in the driver’s seat, along with JJ Abrams, one of the lord of the nerds who has a knack for breathing love into projects that many might think would be too lofty of endeavors.

I don’t know if I would go so far as to say that it’s remotely close to bettering TAS, but it has still been a refreshing watch, and at the time I’m writing this, I’m over halfway through S2, but felt a compulsion to write about it now and often times I have to strike when the iron is hot, but it’s been good.  I don’t think S2 has been as good as the first season was, but I imagine it will conclude with a massive upshot, considering what the show has obviously been doing throughout the season.

But it has done a good job of partially recapturing the magic of TAS, no doubt due to the completely lifted character design and complete auditory homage to the original, but they gain a little distance by going a little further back in the Batman timeline, as well as taking a much more adult theme, clearly intending this show to be nowhere near the after-school FOX Kids lineup or anything like it.

Batman is undoubtedly nerfed, seeing as how he’s earlier in his crime-fighting career, and definitely takes his share of getting damaged, but most of the differences are very heavy handed throughout this universe, primarily with the mass re-imagination of just about everyone from the series, in various ways.

Jim and Barbara Gordon are now black, Harleen Quinzel appears to be possibly Asian in appearance, Selina Kyle is now raven-haired, the Riddler has been made to be more of a bruising gunman, and the Mad Hatter is now a woman.  Renee Montoya is getting a ton more screen time now, but she’s also been made to be kind of fridge build Latina.  Harley’s also been thicc’ened up, deviating from her lithe petite pixie stature of TAS.

I can imagine that there’s a lot of discriminative takes on the massive wave of changes in CC from those who were passionate about TAS, or just traditional source material.  I notice all the differences, but when the day is over, I really couldn’t care about a lot of the characteristic swaps made throughout the cast, except for one: Alfred Pennyworth.

For some reason, Caped Crusader has decided to make Alfred fat, and look more like “Mean Gene” Okerlund than most traditional variations of Alfred, who is usually of a medium-to-lean, unsuspecting build, which is perfect considering the history of the character was that he was basically an MI5 espionage spy in his younger, active days.

Why CC decided to make him fat is completely beyond me, and one of the few things about the show that I really can’t stand by, and get triggered every time I see him. 

To make matters worse, the show has made the younger Bruce Wayne more of an asshole, pretending way too hard to be a pretentious womanizing socialite billionaire playboy when he’s in his alter ego, but the behavior doesn’t seem to end when he’s back under the mask.  Primarily the fact that he only refers to Alfred as “Pennyworth” like he were the senior jock quarterback of the school while Alfred were some sniveling maggot freshman, lucky enough to be in the stratosphere of Bruce Wayne.

The severe disrespect for Alfred Pennyworth throughout the series is the only true serious beef I have with Caped Crusader.  It’s otherwise a very good show, and an adequate successor to TAS, but it annoys the piss out of me whenever Alfred is disrespected so flagrantly.  Seeing as how I haven’t finished S2 yet, I hope this course corrects at some point, and we get back to an Alfred getting a modicum of the respect that he is deserving of.

Let’s talk about House of the Dragon

[boilerplate warning for potential spoilers as if I had any actual human readers]

Originally, I had wanted to write about S3 of House of the Dragon sooner, but other topics and a lack of time kept pushing it and pushing it and I never really got to it, but seeing as how the season finale has come and gone, it seems topical enough again to warrant writing about.

But I would have to say that this has probably been the most stressful season of House of the Dragon, or maybe even any season of any other Game of Thrones or sub-brand season before this one.  Not because of all the fighting, bloodshed, death or political cunning, but mostly because of how relatable to real life this season was, in the sense that there was a whole lot of talking, not a lot of action, constant planning and setting up, wheels spinning, character incompetence, and by the time anything really happened in the season finale, it was more a combination of “it’s about fucking time,” and “let’s just get it over with.”

In other words, S3 of House of the Dragon was a lot like a corporate job, and that, was the most stressful thing in the world for me to have to watch, and completely stifled much of the potential enjoyment there could have been.

Despite ascending to the crown, Rhaenyra Targaryen basically turned into middle management, and that was the initial impetus for wanting to write about the season.  It didn’t matter that she had risen to Protector of the Realm, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, poor Rhaenyra basically spent the lion’s share of the season embroiled in managerial squabbles of overhead consolidation upon a merger, rapid-fire personnel changes, disgruntled customers, as well as the sheer custodial woes of moving to a new office.  She became an overwhelmed and overstimulated corporate manager who thought she was fit for the role but quickly discovered that all was not what she thought it was going to be, and she and her kingdom suffered tremendously as a result.

I couldn’t have cared less about what Aegon and the creepy crippled foot fetish guy were doing on their merry adventures, or what the Hightowers were trying to accomplish in the shadows, but every time I saw Rhaenyra sitting on the Iron Throne listening to the small folk squabble and complain and beg for resources, I’d feel my blood pressure rising, and then she tries to go hide to compose herself, and there are fucking rats all over the castle, and it’s like every person in corporate who gets overwhelmed by their jobs, tries to go home for any bit of reprieve, only to find the bullshit of homeownership waiting for them there.

The season was like Westerosi Office Space and I don’t think George R.R. Martin realizes that he could have a pretty fun project on his hands if he could stop eating lobster and counting his HBO money long enough to add one more thing to his to-do list, a hundred bullet points underneath not-finishing Winds of Winter.

Needless to say, in my personal opinion, S3 of Houes of the Dragon was pretty booty.  Mythical wife and our au pair, whom we all watched the show together, they both were ahead of the curve with turning on the season than I was, and by the time we got to the finale, it was like dragging them into the media room to get this shit over with, while I didn’t really think it was that bad until I really started to think about it.

The biggest takeaway for me from this season, as well as the series as a whole frankly, is the fact that it hasn’t done a very good job of making any characters that I really liked, much less cared about.  I haven’t read Fire and Blood like I did the entire five books of A Song of Ice and Fire so I don’t really know if there will be any characters that I’d like, but as far as the show goes, House of the Dragon does a shitty job of making relatable or interesting characters worthy of liking or caring about.

I loved all sorts of characters in A Song of Ice and Fire, mostly side characters like Bronn, the Hound, and Podrick Payne.  Many other characters commanded respect like Brienne, and Davos, and when the day is over, I clearly am declared to House Stark, because they’re a bunch of honor-bound squares like me that always wants to believe we’re making the right choice.

House of the Dragon has no such characters that I feel any sort of care, relation or really any shits to give about towards, and that was its biggest handicap for me, personally.  Nobody was really likeable, or respectable, and I found that to be key in deciding that the show as a whole is clearly weaker than its predecessor, and nowhere near as good as Knight of the Seven Kingdoms.

Otto is no Littlefinger.  Ormond, whom I was not sold on within five minutes, as the big bad of the season, was clearly no Ramsey or High Sparrow as a boss character.  All the kids except for maybe Baela are all dumb shitheads who pretty much all get or are going to get what they all deserve.  Corlys, in spite of his station and title pretty much does nothing, like ever, and let’s not talk about Grand Maester Orwyle who epitomizes the guy in the office that has an important title but goes to extraordinary lengths to hide and do absolutely jack shit.

I kind of did like Gwayne Hightower, since he was this constant voice of reason, who had a knack for surviving, and I had to respect the hustle.  He was probably the closest thing to a character that I had any affinity towards, despite the fact that I wanted to see the rest of his family get slaughtered.  But everyone else could drop dead at any point and I wouldn’t have cared.  Even the main cast, were all obnoxious and neutered and nerfed the whole season, save for maybe Daemon, but by and large, my point remains, there were really no likeable characters in House of the Dragon, and to me, that is pretty much the chief reason why I think the show as a whole suffered, and will probably continue to suffer in future, insufferable seasons.

KOREAN JOHN CENA

Sometimes I have an observation that I want to share with others.  But I sometimes have this anxiety of feeling like I make other people feel like I’m too frequent a social media poster, and I don’t like feeling like I’m the only one in some of my group chats that starts conversations or blurts out random things, and frankly social media is trash and is often times not worthy of the things I have to say, so thank goodness I have a personal brog for me to use as an outlet, even if nobody will ever see it.

But even if it’s just a statement that really doesn’t need much explanation, it then makes me feel like I need to write more words about it to justify making an entire post despite the fact that I have no real rules about what I write on a personal site but that’s just one of those weird self-imposed obligations I hold myself to, but if there’s anything at all, it’s a good exercise to endlessly be practicing my writing.

I just finished watching 참교육 which for all the white folk is Teach You A Lesson on Netflix.  When I first saw it popping up on the home screen, I couldn’t help but notice that the obvious main character of the show (김무열) was a dead ringer for John Cena, but if he were Korean.  Like seriously, it’s basically John Cena’s face with Korean eyes and black hair, but generally the exact same jaw line, cheekbone structure and silhouette of his head.  I couldn’t get over it, and always said to myself, or aloud when I saw him, KOREAN JOHHHHHN CENAAAA

Then because big brother is always watching, I got a preview reel of it on social, and I watched as Korean John Cena was killing a bunch of high school punks with defense, getting them to swing and miss and wail on each other, and then I thought to myself, yeah ok, this might be interesting to watch after all, and when the moment was right, I dove right into watching.

My mom would have called this an 엉터리 show, which is Korean for trash or bullshit, and from a literal point of view, yeah, it might be.  But I’ll be damned if I didn’t enjoy the it, because the plot was very linear, situations were exaggerated heavily for emphasis, it wasn’t a season of 26 episodes at 94 minutes each like a lot of Korean shows tend to drag on for, and of course, it had Korean John Cena.

And the best part is that his character, ERPB Inspector Na Hwa-Jin basically was like John Cena, in the sense that he was basically permanently Super Cena where nobody could hurt him, he was always coming out on top, and always seemed to have the moral high ground no matter the circumstances.

Hopefully the show doesn’t achieve the level of popularity to where white folks feel the need to re-make it for white people, even if the very Korean tropes featured throughout the show mostly wouldn’t hardly apply to Americans, but never underestimate white peoples’ ability to appropriate and twist things in order to make it work for whitey.  However, if this were ever to come to fruition and an American version of Teach You A Lesson starred actual John Cena in the leading role, then maybe it would have a chance.  Lord knows the role is tailor made for him.

The 6,000 lb. letdown

It’s no secret that I’m a big fan of My 600 Lb. Life, and I was extremely disappointed when the show seemingly came to a slow, uneventful finish after the conclusion of season 13.  Periodically I would Google the show to find out when there was going to be another season, which turned into if there was going to be another season, and all I’d ever find are vague speculations of legal troubles between the production company and TLC and other fans speculating that perhaps Dr. Now was perhaps calling it quits considering he’s 80 years old and should rightfully probably be enjoying retirement without the stress of holding human lives in his fingertips on a regular basis.

Eventually, my curiosity petered off, lost to the passage of time and finding other things to think about.  Recently however, mythical wife brought to my attention that Dr. Now was back on television, albeit no longer called My 600 lb. Life and no longer on TLC.  Rechristened The 6,000 lb. Diaries with Dr. Now, on Lifetime/A&E, I came to discover that this show had been on since fucking 2025 and I’m asking myself how in the world did this not hit my radar, we’re over halfway through 2026 and I had no clue that this show even existed. 

I know that I’m a busy parent, endlessly struggling to keep his head above water and often times miss out on all sorts of crap, but shit goddamn, you’d think one of the numerous algorithms, AI or other big brother-ey crap out there in the world would have brought to my attention the return of Dr. Now to television and made me aware of this last year.

Either way, despite the fact that I have an endless list of television and movies that I want to watch, I shot 6,000 lb. Diaries to the front of the line because I had to see what the fuck Dr. Now was up to now, after all this time.

First, I love the notion that because of the title of the show, people at A&E/Lifetime/TLC/whoever else is under that giant fucking Disney umbrella had to look for the right ten people to have in the first season, so that they could maintain their claim that the total weight of all subjects combined to be at or over 6,000 lbs.  Like there probably had to have been some 590 lb. cruiserweights who were on the show’s shortlist of people to be featured on the show, but their diminutive statures risked the entire show’s aggregate weight down to like 5,967 lbs., so they got passed over for Caleb who weighed in at 804 lbs. and guaranteed that the show could definitely be called 6,000 lb. Diaries.

Anyway, mythical wife and I dove right in, with high hopes and anticipation for some more juicy trainwreck television, and some classic Dr. Now snipes and savage heat.  I was so excited about the season that I didn’t even bother to wait until finishing the entire season to post about it, because as much as I’d love to binge watch anything anymore, with barely two hours of free time a day, shit just ain’t happening.

So five episodes in, and I’m disappointed to have to say that unfortunately I’m not impressed.  Like, at all.  There are a lot of changes to the show’s general format, some decent, some not quite so, but the high-level biggest change of the show really is the noticeable reduction of, the man himself, Dr. Nowzaradan (Bariatric Surgeon).  And when Dr. Now is on screen, it’s almost as if he or someone else has told him(self) to cool it and tone it down with the zingers and the heat, and viewers are not getting any savage snipes or cold remarks that made him such a legend during My 600.

Additionally, and I’m not saying that I deliberately want to see everyone fail, but every single subject of The 6,000 has been successful, at meeting their initial weight loss goals, getting approved for surgery, and getting said surgery, before dropping some more weight post-op, before the episodes end.  It’s not that I’m against them finding success, it’s just that every single subject I’ve seen so far are all genuinely decent-to-likeable people who aren’t trainwrecks, aren’t behavioral problems aside from their overeating, and frankly just aren’t the quality of trash television that made My 600 such riveting television.

I know that says more about my person than anything else, but I’d wager that I’m not the only one feeling this upon watching The 6,000 after being long fans of My 600.  Mythical wife said to me that the show has become too wholesome when I’m wanting trainwreck, and that’s why I’m struggling to get into The 6,000 so much.

Just about everything has changed going from 600 to 6,000.  No longer does the show start with the crushingly sad music, where the subjects trudge out of bed, take a shower before eating an entire family’s worth of breakfast by themselves, go see the ‘doctor in houston’ where Dr. Now gives them the plan, they say they can do it, fail to meet the first weight loss test, get sad or mad, Dr. Now rips into them, they fail again, Dr. Now rips into them again but orders them to get therapy and move to Houston, they move to Houston or not, and the show usually runs out of time before they can get surgery and we never know what happens to them because most people probably aren’t so diehard they’ll wait for the Where Are They Now sequels to every subject.

6,000 has done away with almost all of that, all the way down to the music and title cards, which are now more positive, sky blue and uplifting.  The subjects are bubblier, and are all equipped with personal cams to record “diaries” which make up a chunk of the show’s viewable content, probably saving A&E a lot of money with fewer camera personnel to have to follow.  Gone is a lot of filler footage, mostly of their struggles, like inability to move, complaining while traveling, pigging out on fast food in the parking lots of adjacent Walmarts and general bickering with their enablers. 

The episodes are anywhere from 39-55 minutes, which kind of shows just how bloated My 600 episodes must have gotten with all that filler trash footage.  And as I’ve often said, I’ve grown to appreciate shorter episodes as I’ve gotten older and value my time more, but at the same time, I’m missing the trainwreck drama of the old format, even if it meant only watching one 88-98 minute episode a night.

I feel like holistically everything changed, probably because the old format of My 600 was probably sucking the souls out of everyone, from the viewers to Dr. Now himself.  It’s like they’re trying to course-correct 13 gradually degrading seasons of My 600 with a faster-paced, more uplifting format, focusing more on the victories and not so much the struggles, and with way less Dr. Now on screen, seeing as how the man is 81, and has probably spent the better part of the last 13 seasons getting beat down by all the failure stories and all the asshole subjects that TLC was probably deliberately hand-picking to get the spiciest television out of their interactions with an exasperated and burnt-out Dr. Now. 

At the root of it, Dr. Now is still a very real and very legitimate doctor, and it’s probably providing a lot of chicken soup for his personal and professional soul to have his wins and success stories being shown nationally, instead of all his fuck-ups and failures being the only ones that make it onto television, even if the Assanti Brothers and other trainwrecks were some of the most memorable episodes of the My 600 library.

It seems evident by his on-screen interactions with the subjects of The 6,000; five episodes in, and I haven’t heard a single biting zinger or cutting remark to anyone who’s sitting in Not-Room 5 which is another noticeable format change, having them all sit in a completely different room than where every episode of My 600 was filmed in.  He still calls out shortcomings of missing a goal by 6-10 lbs., and is quick to identify who the enablers are, but he’s also seemingly calmer, and even apt to show some personality or humor.

I get it.  But I miss the savage Dr. Now, even if it was probably to the benefit of nobody actually in the room.

Change is inevitable, and when the day is over, change in the direction of wanting to be more positive is not a bad thing, even if it means less entertainment for callous cold hearts like me.  However, in the world of television and the game of ratings, I’m going to go out on a limb and make the assumption that The 6,000 lb. Diaries won’t have nearly the success that My 600 lb. Life did, and I don’t really know if I’m going to be in any rush to complete the season of the new show.  Disheartening, but that’s the reality of television sometimes.  As Eric Bischoff once said, controversy creates cash.

SummerSlam, blets and moments

I didn’t watch SummerSlam, nor did I actually care to even exert a modicum of effort in order to watch it.  I know that my general fandom of the WWE product has been tested and waning over the last year or so and the grand consensus of all the changes and corporatization of the company is resulting in me gaining more and more distance from the product like it were 1990 all over again and my parents cancelling cable television, preventing me from keeping up with the biz.

Every show is behind a different pay wall, Fanatics has standardized and priced merchandise to inaccessibility, and frankly the product blows chunks now.  Storylines are convoluted and limited to the smallest of pools, and RAW on Netflix is so overwhelmingly buried in ads, I sometimes feel like I’m watching a pirated stream instead of a program that I’m paying a subscription to watch.

That being said, when one of my bros asked our group chat if anyone were watching SummerSlam, it took me 0.2 seconds to respond ‘no.’  I left out the part that I thought it was probably going to be mid as fuck, and the whole two-night show thing that TKO is trying to force like it’s a second Wrestlemania seems like bullshit and when the day is over, there were only two matches on the entire event that I remotely cared about.

Additionally, I knew that there was little point to watching the show, given the fact that with maybe an 18-minute delay, the results of every single match would be spoiled and revealed on various social media outlets, and I could get the Cliff’s notes on the entire show without having to sit through all the ads, rest holds, and botches from the gradual blunting of talent over the last years.

The good news for me was that the two matches I did care about, ended in the ways that I was happy with.  One was predictable, which was the culmination of Chad Gable’s redemption story, with him defeating Penta for the Intercontinental championship.  In the past, I would’ve said for certain that Gable was going to lose, because in the Vince McMahon era of the company, it was almost an unwritten rule that superstars did not win in their hometowns, but in the TKO era, they’re so obsessed with creating moments but more importantly farming footage for future UnTolds, that stuff like this flips, and it’s become pretty predictable, even moreso than it used to be, even for a wrestling oracle like myself.

But still, I’m happy to see Chad Gable get a signature W at the event, because the man has been one of the hardest working and mold-breaking performers over the last few years and it always brings me great joy to see hard workers get their just desserts.

The other match I was intrigued in, ended in really the only winner I had hoped for, but assumed was not going to be the case, which was Chelsea Green climbing to the top of the ladder and winning the Women’s championship, made vacant by the very legitimate Rhea Ripley injury.

As much as I love Chelsea and the internet loves Chelsea, there’s no denying that the E has treated her like this expendable comedy act, and given the fact that she was in the match with former champions like Charlotte, Jade Cargill and Tiffany Stratton, it seemed more likely the E would give it to one of the safe choices, and that Chelsea was there to provide some highlights and outstanding character work.

But the E loves to give surprises, and like I had mentioned, I’m convinced now that they’re so fixated on creating compelling content for UnTold documentaries, they allowed for the impossible to happen, and regardless of their motivations, I was stoked to discover that Chelsea Green had outlasted all the competition, and walked away as the new women’s champion.

Naturally, both these matches occurred on Night 2 of SummerSlam, and if the E really wants to ensure that two-day events have any modicum of succeeding in the long run, they have got to stop backloading their events so blatantly, because history has not been kind to the small number of two-day events they’ve held thusfar, with Night 1 shows being mid as fuck compared to their Night 2 counterparts.

Among the ocean of mediocrity that was the rest of SummerSlam, what stood out to me the most was the introduction of, what’s being called the ESPN Moment of the Night championship blet, inconsequentially being handed out, pretty informally on social media, to the worker of the show that, much to the low-hanging fruit name of the title goes, perceived to have made the best moment of the night.

Night 1 of SummerSlam, the “title” went to Oba Femi, presumably because of his emotional and landmark victory over Brock Lesnar, supposedly ending the career of one of the most impactful performers in the history of the business.  I mean, considering what else was on the card that night, it was pretty low-hanging fruit, and much like the importance of what the title represents, it’s pretty useless, and for a jaded smark like me, actually more of a detriment, because I kind of see it as ESPN giving a middle finger to all the oldhead fans like myself who don’t like all these paywalls, all these separate services, and all the infectious corporatization of the product we once loved so much.

That being said, as happy as I was to see Chelsea Green win the Women’s championship, it was like someone peeing into the pool of celebration when I later saw that ESPN had “awarded” her with the ESPN moment of the night blet, and seeing it on her shoulder in conjunction with an infinitely more meaningful prize on her other.  Fewer things spoil a good time than the arrival of the asshole that everyone doesn’t like but feels obligated to be civil towards because they have a lot of money and influence.

Either way, I’m stoked that performers I like got their flowers and moments at SummerSlam, but at same time I feel satisfied with my choice to not bother watching or pursuing the show because aside from those two matches I don’t really feel like I missed anything, and even if there were, it’s not like I wouldn’t be able to find it on YouTube or any other temporary hosting of the important things.

But that fucking ESPN blet, it is astonishing, that TKO has managed to create a championship blet that is somehow more meaningless and has less importance than any of the 25 straps circulating in the AEW/ROH wrestling space, as well as any of the 14 straps that Mercedes Mone was concurrently holding a little while back.

Dad Brog (#173): I wonder where she gets it from

This is the baby on board tag I put on my car from even before #1 had even arrived.  I had just installed my first ever car seat into the car, and I was completely gung-ho about diving head-first into dad mode, and this tag went up onto the back hatch windshield shortly thereafter. 

A little after a year later, when I switched to a larger dadmobile after #2 arrived, the tag was one of the first things that went up into the new ride.

The sun has clearly faded it, and it has fallen off countless times throughout the years, but I’ve always put it back up, even as my kids went from babies to infants to toddlers to the little opinionated shits they can be today.  At ages six and five, they are far from being babies, in spite of the fact that I always remind them that they’ll always be my babies, no matter when they’re 26, 38 or 45.

The latest fall off, the tag sat off the window for a little while, unnoticed, until it somehow managed to come into the house, stuck to a something that was being brought inside.  I looked at it on the kitchen counter, and feeling a melancholy, bittersweet wave of nostalgia, decided that perhaps it was time to finally say goodbye to the tag, since my kids are far removed from being actual babies anymore.

#1 then looks at the tag and wistfully says I shouldn’t get rid of it, and that it should go back up into the car, just for old time’s sake

Kid is six, she hasn’t been alive long enough for things to be old enough for old time’s sake.

But it was amusing to me that she’s clearly got this sense of nostalgia and tendency to attach emotion to completely useless inanimate objects, and it’s clear where she gets it from.  And I fear for her future, because I think it’s inevitable that she’s going to develop some hoarding tendencies and have a home full of completely useless crap, because her dad fights such on a regular basis and her mom is incapable of throwing anything away, and my dad was bordering on being on Hoarders: Buried Alive based on the monumental amount of well-organized bullshit that I had to clean up from house earlier in the year.

The tag is still sitting on the kitchen counter, pending a decision, and because nobody in my household is capable of not putting all their crap on the counter or table and letting it accumulate and stack like precarious Tetris stacks.  In a few days, if I’m feeling aggravated, it will end up in the trash, victim of rage cleaning at wanting to feel some semblance of order and cleanliness in my life, and I know that this is the inevitable fate of the tag, so I don’t really know why I don’t just bite the bullet and pull the trigger.

Except that I do know the answer to why, and that’s why it will be allowed to remain there until the lesser emotion does its natural order, and it’s pretty obvious where my eldest gets it from.