Monday, May 31, 2010

American Jock

Mike Bennett, Massachusetts-based independent pro wrestler who won the heavyweight belt at Top Rope Promotions last month, looks like the typical North American jock--beefy with a tendency to turn bright red, intense yet hollow eyes, and a bright-white Pepsodent smile.

All in all, it's a type I like--in pictures, anyway, and in life, so long as the guy can refrain from being a total loudmouth blowhard with jet-engine vocal levels (a sonic quality that douses any spark of desire I might feel for a great many visually impressive males, and almost always they are American--even though, for me, as most of you know, attitude, spunk, and an inflated ego are in every other respect must-haves).

Ordinarily, though, this is not a type that enters into my fantasies--combat and/or erotic.  Perhaps it's a question of over-familiarity.  Perhaps it's a question of, almost by definition, the type's lacking any sign of vulnerability, so it's hard for me to imagine the guy potentially being mastered by another fighter, except in terms of instant total annihilation rather than (as I like it) a slow wearing down.  And, then, "wholesomeness," often associated with clean-cut WASP types, is something of a turn-off for me.

But, as I have noted elsewhere, put a pair of eyeglasses on him and I'll be cumming all over myself.

Let me elaborate on that:

Put eyeglasses on this type and let me see him reading a book (anything except Ann Coulter) on a sofa with a tired old dog sleeping beside him.

Let me hear him wax enthusiastic about Walt Whitman.

Show me this type defending women, gays, blacks, or any discriminated-against group, and I'll be ready to shoot.

Put this type in a G-string, oil him up, set him up on top of a bar, and let him grind to an old James Brown hit.

Last, and most relevant to this blog, put this type in tiny tight trunks (either black or absurdly bright-colored) and let me watch him work an opponent (or get worked) as the sweat pops up on his skin and catches the spotlights like it's glitter.

Friday, May 28, 2010

He's 24 Today

It's Tyler Black's birthday.  The twelfth of Ring of Honor's world champions is 24 years old.

I won't say that the man is perfect, but I will say I can't think of any reason to say he's not.  He looks good, "sexy as hell on a Friday night," he looks especially good in skinny black trunks, on top of that he looks like a god when he breaks a sweat, like Cary Grant he can play it heavy and straight or he can play it debonair and funny, he's both big and fast, buff and ripped, a heel and a face, and, on top of everything else, he works hard, maintaining an air of professionalism and intensity in the ring, whether it's at ROH or Cyberfights or Scott County Wrestling, where he started his career five years ago under the name of Gixx.

For the record, Colby Lopez, the name he was born with, strikes me as a great name for a pro wrestler too, though perhaps it has limited heel potential and perhaps it rings too "ethnic" for the kind of image he wanted to project on the mat--and although it rings nicely in my ears today, back in 2005 it may have lacked the clout of a fusion of, just my guess here, "Tyler Durden" and "Jack Black."

Tyler Black is one reason this blog exists.

Happy birthday, champ.  You kill me, dude.

Thursday, May 27, 2010


I don't mind being superficial, but I like to think my superficiality sometimes has depth.

In these pages I examine the crinkles, loops, and quirks of my erotic fantasies, seriously, as if they mattered.  I hope I'm not overly earnest about them, but at the same time I do look at the trivial and the frivolous with a degree of respect.

It's important to me to seek Truth no less in the details of what turns me on than in the contemplation of the origins of the cosmos or the natures of good and evil.  Of the three, what turns me on seems the more testable subject, the more easily observed in action, and the more likely to produce results.

Most of the research has been firsthand or speculative, for obvious reasons.  But occasionally I draw upon secondary sources, which is what I want to do now.  I won't try to integrate the following three quotes into a coherent argument or insight of my own.  I have chosen the passages because they seem to bear on the issues and claims I usually address in this blog.

All references are to The Greeks and Greek Love (2007) by James Davidson, the 644-page (excluding notes) tome I have just finished.  The page numbers refer to the American hardcover edition.

Eros is, with only a few exceptions, utterly one-sided.  You can be longed for, loved (philein), desired "in return" (anti-) with no problem, but for the Greeks there can be no mutual eros, not concurrently.  Eros doesn't work lke that.  He is a vector, a one-way ticket from A to B. ... In fact Anteros more often means not "love in return" but a "contrary Eros"; it implies a contest or conflict ....  Themistius told a story about this pair.  Aphrodite was worried about her son Eros:  he seemed stunted.  She was advised that he needed a brother and so she gave birth to Anteros.  Eros soon started to grow, now that he had a rival on the scene, and each competed with the other to see who could grow the most.  The same pair was shown wrestling in the palaestra (the training ground in a gymnasium) of Elis, home of the Olympic Games.  If Eros was the son of the archetypal happy couple, Hermes and Aphrodite, Anteros should be the son of Ares, god of war.  He is Eros Thwarted (19).

If the power-penetration metaphor is ubiquitous in modern society, we have to be careful, when we look at other periods and places and species, to make sure that we aren't simply projecting our own dismal images onto them.  In fact so far as I can tell from the Oxford English Dictionary, the ubiquitous everyday use of the language of sex to indicate aggression or humiliation is a recent phenomenon, going as far back as 1700, perhaps, in one or two cases, but above all a phenomenon of the second half of the twentieth century.  People did not go around telling each other to fuck off in the Middle Ages. ...  The Greeks commonly referred to sex in lots of ways--as taking pleasure, wrestling, blending, a "mixing" (mixis), "associating" (homilia), "being close" (plesiazo), "being with" (sunousia), "marrying" (gamo), "agitating" (kineo)--and, like people in many other cultures, including not so long ago our own, they worried about an exchange of vital fluids that might involve a dangerous drying out or loss of substance for the man, but never as "fucking someone" in the modern sense with its modern connotations (143).

Here [in the illustrations on an ancient Greek drinking cup by Peithinos, but not the one pictured above] the gymnasium looks more like an occasion for a teen orgy. ... Boys will be boys, and this is more or less what you would expect, isn't it, in a culture of homosexual eros, despite all the law's good intentions?  Look what happened in the upper-class English public schools, despite all the school uniforms and Leviticus and St. Paul.  Just imagine what would happen if you had a group of randy pagan teenagers spending all day in the hot sun, oiled up, wrestling and naked (530).

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Desert Island Promotions

Okay, here’s the game.  You’re on a desert island and you’re allowed only ten wrestling promotions to provide the totality of your kink-wrestling entertainment from now till the end of time.

What do you choose?

BG East.  If BGE didn’t exist, four-fifths of my wrestling DVDs would disappear.  Not counting several freebies I got for services rendered, my collection represents a substantial financial investment on my part.  It would be an exaggeration to say that the cash equivalent would pay for a year of Ivy League tuition for somebody, but it would not be too far off the mark.  Life without Jonny Firestorm, Mike Martin, Kid Vicious, Bass Wallace, Vince Tarelli, Joshua Goodman, Daz, Big John Anderson, Velvet Revolver, Bullet Bernard, Alexi Adamov, Caleb Brand, Beau Nasty, Cameron Mathews, Eric Moreira, Kurt Eriksen, Mikey Vee, or Steve Sherman?  No, never, I couldn’t do it.

Ring of Honor.  If only for Tyler Black’s recent championship, ROH would be on my list.  But there’s more:  a roster that counts not only Black but also Rhett Titus, Austin Aries, the Briscoes, Roderick Strong, and Davey Richards among its members.  For a strictly kayfabe brand name, ROH offers the heart-pounding action of UFC, plus three times the drama.  For a non-kink-specific cable-TV enterprise, ROH displays an impressive amount of man-flesh and a slate of fighters who do not shrink from bringing the erotic subtext of wrestling right up to the surface.  All that, plus some of the best camerawork in the business!

UCW-Milwaukee.  A sentimental favorite.  Like a good daytime drama, UCW has got me all wrapped up now in the fates of Axel, Joker, Klown, Kevin, James, and the rest.  For a promotion that does not pull its punches by much when it comes to sheer willingness to sex it up and get mean, UCW still manages to have a kind of naive innocence that gets me hard.  (Don’t ever lose that childlike glow, guys.)  It’s a young organization, but it’s the only organization that has, so far, consistently upped the ante with each new release, creating slavish devotion and near-addiction on my part.

Krushco.  Krushco is, as the name implies, 71% Krush the man.  How you feel about Krush pretty much determines how you are going to feel about this promotion.  Here’s a guy with the size, skills set, and fighting heart to make every match he’s in work—not just “work,” but school as well.  His opponents, to a man, know they’ve been dealt with after Krush fights them to total exhaustion—and it’s hard for me to imagine that anyone has wrestled him without learning a thing or two about the science of the sport.

Can-Am.  I haven’t been keeping up lately.  The superhero, B&D, and latex kink got to be too much for me.  Truth be told, I probably just didn’t want to go in that direction.  I have a high susceptibility to kink, and I could probably go broke on harnesses and butt plugs alone.  But don’t even expect me to play Crusoe without my stash of Roman Stone, Jimmy Dean, Wyld Child, Jimmy Royce, Paul Perris, and Tom Flex semi-smut classics.  What, have you no heart?

IWA Mid-South Wrestling. The main reason for Smart Mark Video's existence, in my opinion.  Jason Hades is IWA's ace in the hole, but the roster has also included Victorious Secret, Ashton Vuitton, Egotistico Fantastico, Ricochet, Quick Carter Gray, Tyler Black (again), and Prince Mustafa Ali.  And the 2008 feud between Hades and Gray (aka Jayson Quick), culminating in a steel-cage I-Quit match, is the one for the history books, folks.

Pro Wrestling Fusion.  Fusion of what? you may ask.  Well, the offshoot of NWA Florida appears to fuse an array of international styles: puroresu, lucha libre, British-style pro, and all-American roughneckery.  Besides it boasts the newly styled and muy guapo TJ Perkins (the most incredible physical transformation this side of Taylor Lautner).  Nicely photographed matches, as well as a cool arty style, make it special.

NHB-Battle.  Max Anderson, enough said.  Its specialization in straight or at least realistic submission-style wrestling gives NHB, along with Krushco, a unique position on this list.  In addition to Max, there’s Axel, a close-enough ringer for an old boyfriend of mine, not to mention other faves like Bryan Hollister, Dane Tarsen, Dillon Walsh, Donnie “Brax” Braxton, Erick Brown, Jax Holland, and Swage.

AAW. Its motto—“Pro Wrestling Redefined”—is not much of an exaggeration, with no count outs and no DQs, and cards featuring Jimmy Jacobs, CJ Esparza, Louis Lyndon, Ryan Cruz, Davey Richards, Kyle O’Reilly, Vincent Nothing, Tyler Black (yet again), and Shiima Xion.

Naked Kombat.  This desert island must have Wi-Fi.  Even if NK never does anything else half as good ever again, the November 2009 Rusty Stevens-vs-Tommy Defendi match must exist.


Northeast Wrestling's heavyweight champ Matt Taven defeated challenger Mike Bennett at Spring Slam 2010, on April 23rd in Newburgh, New York, on a card that also featured Rob Eckos, Mick Foley, Matt Hardy, Brian Anthony, and Romeo Roselli.

I can't count how many times these two have gone after each other, and don't you think for a second I'm complaining.  These two look good on each other.  Both are tall, dark, buff, and aggressive.  They can have at it weekly for the foreseeable future, as far as I'm concerned.

They have wrestled at not only NEW, but also Top Rope Promotions, where Bennett is the reigning champ.  At least, TRP takes the trouble to get its champ's name right on the Web site.

I mean really, NEW, "Tavern"?


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