Post by John Gable on Mar 6, 2016 17:25:18 GMT -5
It was the night I had been waiting for all my life. The red carpet rolled out, cameras ready, reports everywhere and limos pumping out celebrities like a star making machine. It was the Annual Academy Awards - or more simply referred to as “The Oscars”! Sure, it was just one big night of millionaire patting themselves on the back for making pretend. Sure, it is over glorified nonsense judged by out of touch white men. But that isn't why I enjoyed it. I loved the Oscars because it was a night of celebrating movies and its continuing history in the world. When I was young, I watched the Oscars every year, trying to guess the winners and enjoying all the spectacles prepared of dancing, singing, (attempted) humor, and anything else that happened that night. You got to see an endless amount of recognized faces cut to every few minutes (mostly just George Clooney) and I always day dreamed about being one of those faces.
I imagined that one day, I would be walking down the red carpet and stopped constantly either to take a picture or to answer the (usually stupid) questions of interviewers. Often in my day dreams I would think up the question and imagine the grand and insightful answer I would give it. “Mister Gable, what can you say about so-and-so director?” or “What are you think of the rising trend of such-and-such?”. “Well, Mr. Reporter-person, I personally believe film is eternal and in the end that only the genius will last and what isn't recognized now will wade out all the nonsense of today to be recognized tomorrow. We are all here to leave a memorable impact in this world and it is important to remember that the awards themselves are just predictions in themselves for what will last the test of time for that is the real reward in the end.” And I would walk off feeling accomplished and satisfied as the people at home would reflect on my words and think about how a well-adjusted and striking individual I was.
“It is an honor just to be nominated.” I practiced saying it over and over as soon as I woke up that Sunday. Looked myself in the mirror to see my lips move as I said it, making sure that I wasn't making any awkward and unnecessary movements while doing so. I know it was common courtesy to say it and I want to make sure I say it correctly and convincingly when the time comes. I have seen a few people flub the line some times and there is no second take in live television! You have to be One-take Jack when you step out of that limo. But even though I have dedicated so much to this line, there was not an inch of me that believed it. In my mind, it was all or nothing. It would mean nothing to me if I didn't go home with that award!
I had a speech ready and memorized for when my name was announced. It has been one I have had ready for the last four or five years and there was little chance of me forgetting it. But in the unlikely case I did, I had it ready in post card form in the front pocket of my rented tuxedo. Every several minutes while riding in the limo, I patted my pocket just to make sure it was still there. But even despite that comforting notion of the cards still being there, my heart rate would not go down. There were several points where I thought I would collapse and pass out. But every time I went pale, Lisa, who was right next to me from beginning to end, would interlock her fingers between mine and gently squeeze; bringing me back to life for at least a little while.
The closer to our destination we got, the more often I would grow pale. Lisa would lean up into my ear and whisper, “It is going to be alright, Gable, this is your night. Relax, you are finally among your peers.” Even though her words of comfort meant a lot to me, I had to resist the urge to correct her. These people are not my peers. They despise me. Hollywood looks at me like the biggest black sheep they have ever seen. The fact that I was nominated was a miracle. These people are going to snarl and sneer my way and lean to the closest person next to them and spread their vile Hollywood rumors. But it didn't matter to me. They couldn't do much worse than what the critics and the box office has done to me. I was now a man with nothing to lose and it made me stand out.
Shortly, we arrived at our destination. The crowds were in swarms and even louder than on TV. The only thing separated the sea of people was the guardrails that split the people in half and kept clear the prestigious of success and acceptance. The vividly bright cloth that seemed to stretch endlessly, the red carpet. The limo was not quite yet there. We were stuck behind a few others and slowly crawled forward which made the tension worse. Lisa was sitting on the exiting side and so I couldn't stare out the window to see what was going on, but Lisa was so excited as she did the play-by-play for me, pointing out all those recognizable faces.
Lisa Seymour: Oh, there is Gary Oldman! I can't believe it! Oh wow, he looks much older in person! But the girl he has his arm around is pretty. Is that anyone?...Looks like the person who was in the limo ahead of us was Brad Pitt! Can you believe that? Brad Pitt was only one limo ahead of us! That has to be a good omen! Right?
She looked towards me with such a youthful enthusiasm. But I tried not to comment, with my previous history with the man, where she found a good omen, I found something a little less pleasant...But no reason to bring it up. God, was she beautiful that night. I just stared at her for a moment. Admiring the layered yet simplistic white dress that descended from a narrow point around her neck, hooked on a ring, to just a inch above her ankles. White, shining sequins followed in straight lines downwards, three inches between each strand. She wore white high heels that had a diamond strap and crystal rose at the front. Hey eyes were done in a light purple eye shadow that didn't sit too strongly as her cheeks were a pink blush that was ever so subtle on her skin – hardly hiding the real blushing she had whenever I told her how beautiful it made her look. Her lips were more vivid and red than the carpet that lined the path to the arena. And lastly, her hair...it brought it all together. Her hair was done up in an intricate bun with a sequinned white hair tie but left just a little strand to hang off the left side. But the truth is that these things didn't make her beautify, but it was her that made these accessories impressive. (Barf up if you must but it is true.)
Our limo came to a stop for the last time. Lisa looked at me with her bright and caring eyes and smiled ever so slightly before asking me if I was ready. With this image right before me, the anxiety drained right away and I was ready to jump out and let the world know they can't bring down ol' Gable. He might lose sometimes times, but he was undefeated! Lisa opened the door and stepped out first and stepped out to the side as the crowd indiscriminately cheered. I waited for just a second but with a deep breath, I stuck my head and right foot out and took the first step out onto the red carpet to my future. The crowd cheered just the same, but hearing that sound at my entrance was intoxicating. For so long, when I stepped out into a crowd, all I would hear were boos. People would hurl insults my way as well as their popcorn. But not here...Here they were just happy to see those recognizable faces. They were like me; living vicariously through the people they see on TV and hoping one day that it could be them to step out of a limo. I am not sure entirely, but to me it was somewhat about sympathy. They would never want to be booed with the time finally comes, so they don't boo me now...Or maybe they just didn't care “who I was” and loved that I was someone in general. I can't seem to remember anymore what it is like to be in the mind of a fan...
I put my right arm around Lisa's waist and walked off as the limo drove away to who knows where. We stopped a few times for photos and instantly went into our practiced poses. You'd be surprised at all the things actor's practice when not on set. Autographs, poses, smiles, anecdotes, etc. We try so hard to pull off seeming perfect, to seem more than we really are. To such a point that people seem to not notice how difficult it is and when they try to do these things from the hip, they tend to face such a terrible embarrassment. I call it “Weather Man”syndrome. But I digress.
Anyways, Lisa and I were striking up our poses when I was finally approached by my first red carpet reporter. I quickly made sure my shirt was flat and my tux was straight as I met them half-way, ready for any question they were planning to throw my way. The reporter was in an almost offensively blue dress and jacket combination. Her hair was a violently bleach blonde Trump-esque quaff and the make up was ghastly over done. Her voice pierced all the other noise with her morning time talk show presence as she looked back to the camera and announce who she was approaching.
Bitch Reporter: And here we have John Gable, who is nominated for best supporting actor for his role in “Eye In the Sky” not to be confused with the military thriller with the same name...
I was quick on the draw and positioned myself readily as she approached and stuff next to me with the mic in hand and the camera close behind.
John Gable: Well, it is unfortunate really. You can't copyright a title so they are free to use it but by the looks of it, they may just suffer the same fate as us.
Queue laugh. It is always important to make fun of yourself on a night like tonight since most of the time we are inflating our egos. The reporter laughed obnoxiously as she gave a cheeky glance to the camera. She returned her gaze to me but almost instantly peered over at Lisa, who was very visibly trying to avoid the camera. She really wanted to allow me to hold the lime light, but that wasn't necessary as I saw it as both of our night. Though there was probably a little bit of her that was just as, if not more, nervous. But that didn't stop the over-the-hill reporter from drawing attention to her.
Bitch Reporter: Oh! And this must be Lisa Gable!
Lisa Seymour: He-he. Still Seymour at the moment but that isn't important...
Bitch Reporter: Of course! But, it's interesting, you were in Eye in the Sky as well, but yet you were not nominated for best supporting actress. Do you feel the slightest bit offended by that.
What a snake! Reporters never are really here to celebrate. They are always on the clock to wait for us to slip up so they can be the ones to catch it. But Lisa was a true professional. Her smile was confident and her posture was more upfront as she replied.
Lisa Seymour: Well, there is just so many amazing people nominated this year that I don't feel too bothered by it. I would be more surprised if I WAS nominated.
We all laughed.
Lisa Seymour: But I am here to support John. It is his night and he deserves it! He has worked so hard for this moment and we couldn't be happier.
Bitch Reporter: Excellent! Now John!...
The cross hairs were on my now.
Bitch Reporter: How does it feel to be the first Professional Wrestler to be nominated for an Oscar? Must be a proud day for your profession!
There it was...the cracking of my heart. I could feel the smile slowly melt off my face and there was no process in my brain to get it back. It stung violently, so violently that for a moment, I was sucked out of the live red carpet coverage and was thrown into the middle of a ring. The people surrounding me were jeering fans. The bright lights from the rafters beamed down onto me. My face bruised and swollen and suddenly a hook from Joey Flash! BAM! This is what I am. I played the part so well that I fooled everyone. I am not an actor, I am a competitor. I am not an actor, I am a fighter. I am not an actor...I am a professional fucking wrestler! There it will be forever! This moniker of being an outside who was let in to their circle! I am not respected! I am a novelty! I am a lucky bastard monkey playing to their tune! I should be so lucky!
I must have stood there in silence for a moment too long because Lisa stepped in for a moment, placing herself between me and the reporter. To draw attention from me or to protect that reporter from what I might have done, I'll never know. But Lisa decided to answer for me as fast as she could.
Lisa Seymour: We like to look at is as the first actor to hold a substantial title in wrestling. For John, acting comes first and foremost. Professional wrestling is a secondary career that John has been unfortunately sucked into due to a complicated circumstance of not his doing.
I was still in a daze as Lisa pushed me along. He made our way straight for the entrance, skipping photo spots and avoiding any other reporters like the plague. I was fuming, to the point of almost stomping as we trailed along. Lisa looking slightly disappointed as if she failed to protect me form the outside world. Poor Lisa, I have been dealing with this world longer than you could imagine. It angers me now but I will wash it off like always. It is nothing new and it will never fully go away. I just regret bringing you in with me...But I am glad you are here.
We hurried inside to a commotion of big names and big chatter, attempting to find our seats was a little difficult as we were told one thing from one person and something completely different from someone else. Jumping around the rich and famous, the big and respected. I was trying to keep an eye out for a seat marker but it was a good ten minutes before I realized something dreadful. There was no seat marker for dear ol' Gable. I, one of the nominees!, have been forgotten about on my own night! I quickly looked around and found Tom Hardy's seat marker...so close to the front...Fuck him! But I digress. I took the marker and shoved it under the seat, sat Lisa next to me and took “my” seat right after and waited for the night to start.
Overall the Oscars were alright. The highlight to me was Kermit the Frog singing rainbow connection. Chris Rock was a good host as he ripped apart the whiteness of all the nominees and Hollywood in general while all the white people laughed and clapped a little too hard. I thought these people were supposed to be convincing liar. “You're so brave!” But with all that aside, the time had finally come for the award for best supporting actor to be presented. My muscles tensed up as Patricia Arquette walked out onto the stage. Lisa intertwined her fingers with mine again.
The nominees were listed and a clip was show for everyone of them and I damn near squealed when my scene popped on. It was in a bar and my character was drunk. I remember shooting it. The lines were written but the cynical appearance was real. It had been such a long day. Lisa was still shy and fragile at the time and I was so frustrated with her. She kept flubbing and forcing us to redo the scene that eventually the lethargic nature of my delivery was a reality rather than trying to be some sort of drunkness. But all that has changed now. Seems like forever ago...
Patricia Arquette: And the winner is...
I took in a deep breath and held it. It seemed like several minutes passed as she opened the envelope but in reality it was mere seconds. It was the moment of truth as they say...
Patricia Arquette: Mark Rylance!!!
It all fell out from under me. My ambition, my enthusiasm, my dreams, all melted away in less than a second. I watched as the bastard stepped up onto the stage and give his lack luster fucking speech! Then I watched as he was escorted off. I wanted to leave so badly that it was almost feverish. Several times, Lisa leaned over to me, rubbed my shoulder and whispered “It's okay, Gable...At least you were nominated...” But that isn't enough my dear Lisa. I needed the win! I needed it to make up for all the bullshit I pushed myself through. This just felt like a repeat! Flash wins, Hollywood wins, I lose! Gable always loses! Gable is a loser! Gable doesn't deserve to call himself an actor! Gable is a phony! POINT AND LAUGH! POINT AND LAUGH! POINT AND LAUGH!.
I told Lisa I needed to step out for some air...but it wasn't air that I needed. I wasn't leaving this event empty handed. After a bit of searching, I found my way to the back. Reporters were already filling in as the winners conversed with one another. Most of them admiring their now engraved Oscars. And there was Mr. Rylance on his way to getting his engraved. He was just about to hand it to the engraver when I called out to him.
John Gable: Hey! Rylance!
The acting veteran turned around with his delighted smile.
Mark Rylance: Oh, Mr. Gable! Happy to see you! I absolutely loved your performance in...
WHAM! With a right hook, I knocked the old bastard to the floor! The Oscar dropped out of his hand. I quickly picked it up and raced to the engraver.
John Gable: Put my name on it! This is MY Oscar! I deserve it! Put my name on it our I will knock you out like I did him!
It was the old beat playing in my head...1, 2, 3, 4...1, 2, 3, 4...I was no longer conscious where I was, just that I was holding my gold and I refused to lose it to anyone!...but then my voice of reason broke through...
Lisa Seymour: Gable!!!
I looked up and saw that everyone was staring at me. Camera flashes everywhere. I turned around and saw Lisa helping Mark Rylance to his feet, apologizing for what I had done. As soon as she was able to lead him over to someone else to support him, she made her way over to me with almost a look of fright in her eyes.
Lisa Seymour: Gable, put the Oscar down and let's go home. It's going to be alright. Just leave the Oscar...
I looked back down to the Oscar in my hand. It was there...I wanted it...I needed it...It was supposed to be mine. Lisa walked over and pushed it down and lightly guided my gaze by the chin to look her into the eyes.
Lisa Seymour: Let's go home.
John Gable: But...it was supposed...
Lisa Seymour: I know, Gable...There will be other opportunities.
She took the gold statue from my hands and handed back to its rightful owner before leading me out as the reporters shouted out questions that I could not properly interpret for my mind was nothing but a shell at the moment. Even the ride to the hotel was a blur. Who is John Gable? I no longer know.
But after a few days, I made a decision. If Hollywood wasn't going to accept me, then I will teach them to regret rejecting me! I will no longer be held back by their standards! I will go to any lengths to reveal the dirty underbelly of the land I once respected! I was going to be a mirror of their terrible hypocrisy! I don't need to be accepted by such narrow minded white-privileged plebeians! I will be the step to the future!
It was a dark and dirty hallway in a very run down hotel. The wallpaper was spotted with dirty and half ripped off. The lights flickered with their nasty white florescence. There was audible fighting happening outside that seeped in through the slightly open window at the end of the hall. And there I stood, covered in a silhouette from the light from the window.
John Gable: The Oscars have come and gone and things seem worse in Hollywood than ever before.
I stepped forward out of the light to reveal that my face was covered in pitch black make-up with a white ring around the lips. I wore a long green shirt, baggy pants hanging down past my ass, showing a little bit of the black boxers, as well as a tall hat and big aviator sunglasses. I know what you're thinking... “Gable look like he about to drop a bomb-ass shoot on this foos!” Black Shadow is back, bitches!...I didn't bring a long Lisa. She wouldn't understand that I needed to do this. Under this supposed racial-intense imagery was I point. A point White America could no longer ignore.
John Gable: A white man casted as Michael Jackson, a white-washed Gods of Egypt, Peyton Manning beats out a supposed “thug” for a Superbowl trophy and a potential PRESIDENTIAL candidate turns away Black Lives Matter protestors to get back to the “real issues”. The struggle is still alive, my brothers. The black man can't seem to get a leg up in our world without an asterisk next to his name. The police are still crooked, the system is still inherently racist, and the White House still doesn't care about black people! That's right Obama, I'm callin' you out, my nigga. Get you into office and you go and get bought out by white America! Muthafuccin' Uncle Tom if I ever did see one. Even when we win, we still lose...
The worst part is majority of America think there isn't a problem; that racism is over! You hear that? Apparently all the white people got together to have a meeting and decided “Racism, what's that shit?” They don't see race no more! So, it shouldn't be a problem, right?!? It's dat White Privilege, yo! They just want to move on like none of it ever happened and like it still doesn't happen! #AllLivesMatter yall! What the fuck is up with that shit! And they say they ain't racist but they get into an uproar when Beyonce decides to stop being their little puppet and makes a song celebrating her black heritage and expressing her black rage! They through a fit when Kendrick Lamar gets up on stage on the Grammys (people still watch the fucking Grammys?!?) and shows black people in chains and shit! What, too real? People claimed that things like that are racist to white people because slavery is over...But what they don't get is that slavery is not over! Sure, we're getting paid now but it was never about money! That is bullshit that the white man injects into rap to influence the black man into his system! It is about dignity! It is about being seen as equals!
I chuckled as I took off my sunglasses and tossed them to the side. The real acting is always in the eyes. To nail this part, I followed Andre around endlessly, picking up small mannerism and speech patterns. Though, don't tell him that. He didn't exactly know I was following him. I didn't want him to know and alter his perspective! I wanted the REAL black experience! And how I felt now, I think I was nailing it. I think I encapsulated it quite well. You could almost say their was a real black side to Gable...
John Gable: Want to know the secret about the racism in Hollywood? They will make movies like Straight Outta Compton and Creed, they will make plenty of money and everyone will celebrate and Hollywood will love it...But they don't dare acknowledge it! They will reap all of the benefits but they will deny itss place in history! No Oscar for Michael B. Jordan, no awards for anything about NWA! Nope, all you get is Tom Hardy this and Leonardo Dicaprio that! Mayo eatin' honkies don't even flinch at the thought! Did Leo say anything about the lack of diversity? No! He didn't want his night to be ruined! He color blind! That is his excuse!
Whites rule everything around me! I know first hand! Wrestling is the same exact way! How many black people have been successful in WCF?! Steve Orbit? You know how I feel about that two face nigga! And honestly he is one of the very few! The rest are treated like a joke! D'Angelo Hall could massacre any nigga that stepped into that ring but the system keeps him out! Big Train is big and mean and that is exactly why you don't see him around, makes all the little white men scared and all the white girls curious...Can't have that! C. J. Phoenix, Emeka, should be respected names but Seth Massah Lerch keeps them down because he needs his wonder bread utopia!
Maaaan, I bet you all are wondering how this applies to Rebellution? That's the problem! It doesn't! That IS white-privilege! They don't have to worry about it! They are a group that calls for change but they don't got that black rage! How are they supposed to change shit when they don't even go after the biggest problem at all! And I know what you're thinking! “But Gable, what about DeMarcus Jordan?!” Man, don't even get me started on that house-nigga! He ain't shit! He practically whiter than the rest of those honkeys! And that is with Andre Holmes to think about. One of the whitest muffuckas I ever did see! They just use DeMarcus to prance around so they can say “It's cool, we have a black friend!”
If I was DeMarcus, I wouldn't get anywhere close to Bonnie Blue. She a pretty white girl and all but she from dat DEEP South! Her daddy wouldn't appreciate no big ol' black dick getting anywhere near his baby girl! That is his property! You know that bitch's family has probably owned slaves. White and Proud my man. They ain't lookin' out for you, homie. They just doin' what Hollywood does. All the money, none of the praise! Just warnin' a brother.
Though, I can't blame him. Me and My #BeachBrothah talk all the time how we would run train on that sweet white ass! Mmm-MM! Damn girl, you fine! Spike Lee must be crazy not hoppin' on some white pussy from time to time! Bonnie, if you ever get tired being passed around that Rebelloser circle, #BeachKrew is more than happy to take you in! #BitchLivesMatter.
I clap my hands and rub them together...I think I might have wondered off from my original point...time to re-calibrate!
John Gable: Enough of that shit. The point I'm making is that it is a dangerous world out there for a brother! It isn't just that we are ignored by a shit-show like the Oscars. We get harassed by the police when we didn't even do nothin'! My nigga Andre was just tellin' me 'bout a bit not too long ago about some Andy Giffith lookin' mother fucker pullin' him over in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, farm land, USA! Claimin' he was speedin', makin' shit up about a turn signal being out and then claimin' he could smell weed on him and my nigga wasn't even carryin' that day! It was some real sketchy shit and it happens everyday for my people! They just assume we all criminals! Long story short, the honky let my brother pull away with just a warning. AH! THANK YA MASSAH!
But beyond that, let's say a black child goes missin', the news ain't gonna cover that! A brother gets killed? The police don't care! Just another nigga down! And if the police so happens to kill one of these 'niggas' then they are let off the hook or even praised for their bravery! Fuck that! Ain't nobody who's livin' large gonna care about the struggle down here! And trust me, the struggle is fuckin' real!
Hell, I am almost afraid to step into the ring with Gemini! Didn't he kill that Holden fuck? Now, House of Ophelia and Henson in general are three-edgy-five-me, know what I'm sayin'? But they didn't deserve that! Think if that happened to a black man! Not one of those fans would care! They would just move on! How is my brother Andre supposed to feel comfortable in a world like that!? Gemini could get away with murder again! He didn't get in trouble for last time, so they won't bat an eye-lash this time! How do you not see what is goin' on?!?...
I wiped my forehead of sweat that had been building up on the make up, causing some of the blackness to be smeared off, revealing the whiteness underneath.
John Gable: Maybe the question has popped into your head. “I get your point, Gable, and it's a good one. But did you have to go to unneeded measures to present it?” But what you don't realize is I didn't dawn this make up and this attitude for the joke or for the cynicism! I dawned it to mirror that of Hollywod and to a point that of the world! What is black culture now is a mutilation! It is a bastardization with a white illuminati hiding underneath! They actively try to turn black culture around on itself! To make it seem stupid, disorganized, and unintelligible! They change the focus from equality and respect, to money and bitches! They trap the people into a pigeon hole and multiple the brutality so they don't escape! They cut up the speech so they can't converse with the outside world! But the problem is Black America is watching and learning! They have noticed the white supremacy strategy and are now fighting back. Lil-Wayne is death, Kendrick Lamar is life! The Jazz Singer is forgotten! Creed is forever! And the people who built this system are scared. They hope the apathy they gave white america will have it fade or the hate they gave them will suffocate it! But no! It is too late! The movement is being noticed and it is gaining traction!
I start frantically wiping all the make up off until it is just a cloudy black stain on my face.
John Gable: Soon enough you will see that Best Director will go to a Black Man that didn't need to helm a slavery picture! Black football players won't be referred to as “thugs”. A new black wrestler who isn't a PIMP will hold that World Heavyweight Title and there is nothing the white establishment will be able to about it...If you want to talk about a real revolt! This one will trounce Rebellution! No one will remember those fuckwits in the records of time! And this slam will be the first step as Andre and I bring them down with the black rage that fills us both! We both know how it is to be rejected by society and now we need to show that society doesn't get to choose! Black Shadow rises! White Lightning falls! HOLLYWOOD AND WCF WILL REGRET EVER FUCKING ME!
I spat into the lense of the camera before knocking it to the side to get passed out of frame.
I imagined that one day, I would be walking down the red carpet and stopped constantly either to take a picture or to answer the (usually stupid) questions of interviewers. Often in my day dreams I would think up the question and imagine the grand and insightful answer I would give it. “Mister Gable, what can you say about so-and-so director?” or “What are you think of the rising trend of such-and-such?”. “Well, Mr. Reporter-person, I personally believe film is eternal and in the end that only the genius will last and what isn't recognized now will wade out all the nonsense of today to be recognized tomorrow. We are all here to leave a memorable impact in this world and it is important to remember that the awards themselves are just predictions in themselves for what will last the test of time for that is the real reward in the end.” And I would walk off feeling accomplished and satisfied as the people at home would reflect on my words and think about how a well-adjusted and striking individual I was.
“It is an honor just to be nominated.” I practiced saying it over and over as soon as I woke up that Sunday. Looked myself in the mirror to see my lips move as I said it, making sure that I wasn't making any awkward and unnecessary movements while doing so. I know it was common courtesy to say it and I want to make sure I say it correctly and convincingly when the time comes. I have seen a few people flub the line some times and there is no second take in live television! You have to be One-take Jack when you step out of that limo. But even though I have dedicated so much to this line, there was not an inch of me that believed it. In my mind, it was all or nothing. It would mean nothing to me if I didn't go home with that award!
I had a speech ready and memorized for when my name was announced. It has been one I have had ready for the last four or five years and there was little chance of me forgetting it. But in the unlikely case I did, I had it ready in post card form in the front pocket of my rented tuxedo. Every several minutes while riding in the limo, I patted my pocket just to make sure it was still there. But even despite that comforting notion of the cards still being there, my heart rate would not go down. There were several points where I thought I would collapse and pass out. But every time I went pale, Lisa, who was right next to me from beginning to end, would interlock her fingers between mine and gently squeeze; bringing me back to life for at least a little while.
The closer to our destination we got, the more often I would grow pale. Lisa would lean up into my ear and whisper, “It is going to be alright, Gable, this is your night. Relax, you are finally among your peers.” Even though her words of comfort meant a lot to me, I had to resist the urge to correct her. These people are not my peers. They despise me. Hollywood looks at me like the biggest black sheep they have ever seen. The fact that I was nominated was a miracle. These people are going to snarl and sneer my way and lean to the closest person next to them and spread their vile Hollywood rumors. But it didn't matter to me. They couldn't do much worse than what the critics and the box office has done to me. I was now a man with nothing to lose and it made me stand out.
Shortly, we arrived at our destination. The crowds were in swarms and even louder than on TV. The only thing separated the sea of people was the guardrails that split the people in half and kept clear the prestigious of success and acceptance. The vividly bright cloth that seemed to stretch endlessly, the red carpet. The limo was not quite yet there. We were stuck behind a few others and slowly crawled forward which made the tension worse. Lisa was sitting on the exiting side and so I couldn't stare out the window to see what was going on, but Lisa was so excited as she did the play-by-play for me, pointing out all those recognizable faces.
Lisa Seymour: Oh, there is Gary Oldman! I can't believe it! Oh wow, he looks much older in person! But the girl he has his arm around is pretty. Is that anyone?...Looks like the person who was in the limo ahead of us was Brad Pitt! Can you believe that? Brad Pitt was only one limo ahead of us! That has to be a good omen! Right?
She looked towards me with such a youthful enthusiasm. But I tried not to comment, with my previous history with the man, where she found a good omen, I found something a little less pleasant...But no reason to bring it up. God, was she beautiful that night. I just stared at her for a moment. Admiring the layered yet simplistic white dress that descended from a narrow point around her neck, hooked on a ring, to just a inch above her ankles. White, shining sequins followed in straight lines downwards, three inches between each strand. She wore white high heels that had a diamond strap and crystal rose at the front. Hey eyes were done in a light purple eye shadow that didn't sit too strongly as her cheeks were a pink blush that was ever so subtle on her skin – hardly hiding the real blushing she had whenever I told her how beautiful it made her look. Her lips were more vivid and red than the carpet that lined the path to the arena. And lastly, her hair...it brought it all together. Her hair was done up in an intricate bun with a sequinned white hair tie but left just a little strand to hang off the left side. But the truth is that these things didn't make her beautify, but it was her that made these accessories impressive. (Barf up if you must but it is true.)
Our limo came to a stop for the last time. Lisa looked at me with her bright and caring eyes and smiled ever so slightly before asking me if I was ready. With this image right before me, the anxiety drained right away and I was ready to jump out and let the world know they can't bring down ol' Gable. He might lose sometimes times, but he was undefeated! Lisa opened the door and stepped out first and stepped out to the side as the crowd indiscriminately cheered. I waited for just a second but with a deep breath, I stuck my head and right foot out and took the first step out onto the red carpet to my future. The crowd cheered just the same, but hearing that sound at my entrance was intoxicating. For so long, when I stepped out into a crowd, all I would hear were boos. People would hurl insults my way as well as their popcorn. But not here...Here they were just happy to see those recognizable faces. They were like me; living vicariously through the people they see on TV and hoping one day that it could be them to step out of a limo. I am not sure entirely, but to me it was somewhat about sympathy. They would never want to be booed with the time finally comes, so they don't boo me now...Or maybe they just didn't care “who I was” and loved that I was someone in general. I can't seem to remember anymore what it is like to be in the mind of a fan...
I put my right arm around Lisa's waist and walked off as the limo drove away to who knows where. We stopped a few times for photos and instantly went into our practiced poses. You'd be surprised at all the things actor's practice when not on set. Autographs, poses, smiles, anecdotes, etc. We try so hard to pull off seeming perfect, to seem more than we really are. To such a point that people seem to not notice how difficult it is and when they try to do these things from the hip, they tend to face such a terrible embarrassment. I call it “Weather Man”syndrome. But I digress.
Anyways, Lisa and I were striking up our poses when I was finally approached by my first red carpet reporter. I quickly made sure my shirt was flat and my tux was straight as I met them half-way, ready for any question they were planning to throw my way. The reporter was in an almost offensively blue dress and jacket combination. Her hair was a violently bleach blonde Trump-esque quaff and the make up was ghastly over done. Her voice pierced all the other noise with her morning time talk show presence as she looked back to the camera and announce who she was approaching.
Bitch Reporter: And here we have John Gable, who is nominated for best supporting actor for his role in “Eye In the Sky” not to be confused with the military thriller with the same name...
I was quick on the draw and positioned myself readily as she approached and stuff next to me with the mic in hand and the camera close behind.
John Gable: Well, it is unfortunate really. You can't copyright a title so they are free to use it but by the looks of it, they may just suffer the same fate as us.
Queue laugh. It is always important to make fun of yourself on a night like tonight since most of the time we are inflating our egos. The reporter laughed obnoxiously as she gave a cheeky glance to the camera. She returned her gaze to me but almost instantly peered over at Lisa, who was very visibly trying to avoid the camera. She really wanted to allow me to hold the lime light, but that wasn't necessary as I saw it as both of our night. Though there was probably a little bit of her that was just as, if not more, nervous. But that didn't stop the over-the-hill reporter from drawing attention to her.
Bitch Reporter: Oh! And this must be Lisa Gable!
Lisa Seymour: He-he. Still Seymour at the moment but that isn't important...
Bitch Reporter: Of course! But, it's interesting, you were in Eye in the Sky as well, but yet you were not nominated for best supporting actress. Do you feel the slightest bit offended by that.
What a snake! Reporters never are really here to celebrate. They are always on the clock to wait for us to slip up so they can be the ones to catch it. But Lisa was a true professional. Her smile was confident and her posture was more upfront as she replied.
Lisa Seymour: Well, there is just so many amazing people nominated this year that I don't feel too bothered by it. I would be more surprised if I WAS nominated.
We all laughed.
Lisa Seymour: But I am here to support John. It is his night and he deserves it! He has worked so hard for this moment and we couldn't be happier.
Bitch Reporter: Excellent! Now John!...
The cross hairs were on my now.
Bitch Reporter: How does it feel to be the first Professional Wrestler to be nominated for an Oscar? Must be a proud day for your profession!
There it was...the cracking of my heart. I could feel the smile slowly melt off my face and there was no process in my brain to get it back. It stung violently, so violently that for a moment, I was sucked out of the live red carpet coverage and was thrown into the middle of a ring. The people surrounding me were jeering fans. The bright lights from the rafters beamed down onto me. My face bruised and swollen and suddenly a hook from Joey Flash! BAM! This is what I am. I played the part so well that I fooled everyone. I am not an actor, I am a competitor. I am not an actor, I am a fighter. I am not an actor...I am a professional fucking wrestler! There it will be forever! This moniker of being an outside who was let in to their circle! I am not respected! I am a novelty! I am a lucky bastard monkey playing to their tune! I should be so lucky!
I must have stood there in silence for a moment too long because Lisa stepped in for a moment, placing herself between me and the reporter. To draw attention from me or to protect that reporter from what I might have done, I'll never know. But Lisa decided to answer for me as fast as she could.
Lisa Seymour: We like to look at is as the first actor to hold a substantial title in wrestling. For John, acting comes first and foremost. Professional wrestling is a secondary career that John has been unfortunately sucked into due to a complicated circumstance of not his doing.
I was still in a daze as Lisa pushed me along. He made our way straight for the entrance, skipping photo spots and avoiding any other reporters like the plague. I was fuming, to the point of almost stomping as we trailed along. Lisa looking slightly disappointed as if she failed to protect me form the outside world. Poor Lisa, I have been dealing with this world longer than you could imagine. It angers me now but I will wash it off like always. It is nothing new and it will never fully go away. I just regret bringing you in with me...But I am glad you are here.
We hurried inside to a commotion of big names and big chatter, attempting to find our seats was a little difficult as we were told one thing from one person and something completely different from someone else. Jumping around the rich and famous, the big and respected. I was trying to keep an eye out for a seat marker but it was a good ten minutes before I realized something dreadful. There was no seat marker for dear ol' Gable. I, one of the nominees!, have been forgotten about on my own night! I quickly looked around and found Tom Hardy's seat marker...so close to the front...Fuck him! But I digress. I took the marker and shoved it under the seat, sat Lisa next to me and took “my” seat right after and waited for the night to start.
Overall the Oscars were alright. The highlight to me was Kermit the Frog singing rainbow connection. Chris Rock was a good host as he ripped apart the whiteness of all the nominees and Hollywood in general while all the white people laughed and clapped a little too hard. I thought these people were supposed to be convincing liar. “You're so brave!” But with all that aside, the time had finally come for the award for best supporting actor to be presented. My muscles tensed up as Patricia Arquette walked out onto the stage. Lisa intertwined her fingers with mine again.
The nominees were listed and a clip was show for everyone of them and I damn near squealed when my scene popped on. It was in a bar and my character was drunk. I remember shooting it. The lines were written but the cynical appearance was real. It had been such a long day. Lisa was still shy and fragile at the time and I was so frustrated with her. She kept flubbing and forcing us to redo the scene that eventually the lethargic nature of my delivery was a reality rather than trying to be some sort of drunkness. But all that has changed now. Seems like forever ago...
Patricia Arquette: And the winner is...
I took in a deep breath and held it. It seemed like several minutes passed as she opened the envelope but in reality it was mere seconds. It was the moment of truth as they say...
Patricia Arquette: Mark Rylance!!!
It all fell out from under me. My ambition, my enthusiasm, my dreams, all melted away in less than a second. I watched as the bastard stepped up onto the stage and give his lack luster fucking speech! Then I watched as he was escorted off. I wanted to leave so badly that it was almost feverish. Several times, Lisa leaned over to me, rubbed my shoulder and whispered “It's okay, Gable...At least you were nominated...” But that isn't enough my dear Lisa. I needed the win! I needed it to make up for all the bullshit I pushed myself through. This just felt like a repeat! Flash wins, Hollywood wins, I lose! Gable always loses! Gable is a loser! Gable doesn't deserve to call himself an actor! Gable is a phony! POINT AND LAUGH! POINT AND LAUGH! POINT AND LAUGH!.
I told Lisa I needed to step out for some air...but it wasn't air that I needed. I wasn't leaving this event empty handed. After a bit of searching, I found my way to the back. Reporters were already filling in as the winners conversed with one another. Most of them admiring their now engraved Oscars. And there was Mr. Rylance on his way to getting his engraved. He was just about to hand it to the engraver when I called out to him.
John Gable: Hey! Rylance!
The acting veteran turned around with his delighted smile.
Mark Rylance: Oh, Mr. Gable! Happy to see you! I absolutely loved your performance in...
WHAM! With a right hook, I knocked the old bastard to the floor! The Oscar dropped out of his hand. I quickly picked it up and raced to the engraver.
John Gable: Put my name on it! This is MY Oscar! I deserve it! Put my name on it our I will knock you out like I did him!
It was the old beat playing in my head...1, 2, 3, 4...1, 2, 3, 4...I was no longer conscious where I was, just that I was holding my gold and I refused to lose it to anyone!...but then my voice of reason broke through...
Lisa Seymour: Gable!!!
I looked up and saw that everyone was staring at me. Camera flashes everywhere. I turned around and saw Lisa helping Mark Rylance to his feet, apologizing for what I had done. As soon as she was able to lead him over to someone else to support him, she made her way over to me with almost a look of fright in her eyes.
Lisa Seymour: Gable, put the Oscar down and let's go home. It's going to be alright. Just leave the Oscar...
I looked back down to the Oscar in my hand. It was there...I wanted it...I needed it...It was supposed to be mine. Lisa walked over and pushed it down and lightly guided my gaze by the chin to look her into the eyes.
Lisa Seymour: Let's go home.
John Gable: But...it was supposed...
Lisa Seymour: I know, Gable...There will be other opportunities.
She took the gold statue from my hands and handed back to its rightful owner before leading me out as the reporters shouted out questions that I could not properly interpret for my mind was nothing but a shell at the moment. Even the ride to the hotel was a blur. Who is John Gable? I no longer know.
But after a few days, I made a decision. If Hollywood wasn't going to accept me, then I will teach them to regret rejecting me! I will no longer be held back by their standards! I will go to any lengths to reveal the dirty underbelly of the land I once respected! I was going to be a mirror of their terrible hypocrisy! I don't need to be accepted by such narrow minded white-privileged plebeians! I will be the step to the future!
It was a dark and dirty hallway in a very run down hotel. The wallpaper was spotted with dirty and half ripped off. The lights flickered with their nasty white florescence. There was audible fighting happening outside that seeped in through the slightly open window at the end of the hall. And there I stood, covered in a silhouette from the light from the window.
John Gable: The Oscars have come and gone and things seem worse in Hollywood than ever before.
I stepped forward out of the light to reveal that my face was covered in pitch black make-up with a white ring around the lips. I wore a long green shirt, baggy pants hanging down past my ass, showing a little bit of the black boxers, as well as a tall hat and big aviator sunglasses. I know what you're thinking... “Gable look like he about to drop a bomb-ass shoot on this foos!” Black Shadow is back, bitches!...I didn't bring a long Lisa. She wouldn't understand that I needed to do this. Under this supposed racial-intense imagery was I point. A point White America could no longer ignore.
John Gable: A white man casted as Michael Jackson, a white-washed Gods of Egypt, Peyton Manning beats out a supposed “thug” for a Superbowl trophy and a potential PRESIDENTIAL candidate turns away Black Lives Matter protestors to get back to the “real issues”. The struggle is still alive, my brothers. The black man can't seem to get a leg up in our world without an asterisk next to his name. The police are still crooked, the system is still inherently racist, and the White House still doesn't care about black people! That's right Obama, I'm callin' you out, my nigga. Get you into office and you go and get bought out by white America! Muthafuccin' Uncle Tom if I ever did see one. Even when we win, we still lose...
The worst part is majority of America think there isn't a problem; that racism is over! You hear that? Apparently all the white people got together to have a meeting and decided “Racism, what's that shit?” They don't see race no more! So, it shouldn't be a problem, right?!? It's dat White Privilege, yo! They just want to move on like none of it ever happened and like it still doesn't happen! #AllLivesMatter yall! What the fuck is up with that shit! And they say they ain't racist but they get into an uproar when Beyonce decides to stop being their little puppet and makes a song celebrating her black heritage and expressing her black rage! They through a fit when Kendrick Lamar gets up on stage on the Grammys (people still watch the fucking Grammys?!?) and shows black people in chains and shit! What, too real? People claimed that things like that are racist to white people because slavery is over...But what they don't get is that slavery is not over! Sure, we're getting paid now but it was never about money! That is bullshit that the white man injects into rap to influence the black man into his system! It is about dignity! It is about being seen as equals!
I chuckled as I took off my sunglasses and tossed them to the side. The real acting is always in the eyes. To nail this part, I followed Andre around endlessly, picking up small mannerism and speech patterns. Though, don't tell him that. He didn't exactly know I was following him. I didn't want him to know and alter his perspective! I wanted the REAL black experience! And how I felt now, I think I was nailing it. I think I encapsulated it quite well. You could almost say their was a real black side to Gable...
John Gable: Want to know the secret about the racism in Hollywood? They will make movies like Straight Outta Compton and Creed, they will make plenty of money and everyone will celebrate and Hollywood will love it...But they don't dare acknowledge it! They will reap all of the benefits but they will deny itss place in history! No Oscar for Michael B. Jordan, no awards for anything about NWA! Nope, all you get is Tom Hardy this and Leonardo Dicaprio that! Mayo eatin' honkies don't even flinch at the thought! Did Leo say anything about the lack of diversity? No! He didn't want his night to be ruined! He color blind! That is his excuse!
Whites rule everything around me! I know first hand! Wrestling is the same exact way! How many black people have been successful in WCF?! Steve Orbit? You know how I feel about that two face nigga! And honestly he is one of the very few! The rest are treated like a joke! D'Angelo Hall could massacre any nigga that stepped into that ring but the system keeps him out! Big Train is big and mean and that is exactly why you don't see him around, makes all the little white men scared and all the white girls curious...Can't have that! C. J. Phoenix, Emeka, should be respected names but Seth Massah Lerch keeps them down because he needs his wonder bread utopia!
Maaaan, I bet you all are wondering how this applies to Rebellution? That's the problem! It doesn't! That IS white-privilege! They don't have to worry about it! They are a group that calls for change but they don't got that black rage! How are they supposed to change shit when they don't even go after the biggest problem at all! And I know what you're thinking! “But Gable, what about DeMarcus Jordan?!” Man, don't even get me started on that house-nigga! He ain't shit! He practically whiter than the rest of those honkeys! And that is with Andre Holmes to think about. One of the whitest muffuckas I ever did see! They just use DeMarcus to prance around so they can say “It's cool, we have a black friend!”
If I was DeMarcus, I wouldn't get anywhere close to Bonnie Blue. She a pretty white girl and all but she from dat DEEP South! Her daddy wouldn't appreciate no big ol' black dick getting anywhere near his baby girl! That is his property! You know that bitch's family has probably owned slaves. White and Proud my man. They ain't lookin' out for you, homie. They just doin' what Hollywood does. All the money, none of the praise! Just warnin' a brother.
Though, I can't blame him. Me and My #BeachBrothah talk all the time how we would run train on that sweet white ass! Mmm-MM! Damn girl, you fine! Spike Lee must be crazy not hoppin' on some white pussy from time to time! Bonnie, if you ever get tired being passed around that Rebelloser circle, #BeachKrew is more than happy to take you in! #BitchLivesMatter.
I clap my hands and rub them together...I think I might have wondered off from my original point...time to re-calibrate!
John Gable: Enough of that shit. The point I'm making is that it is a dangerous world out there for a brother! It isn't just that we are ignored by a shit-show like the Oscars. We get harassed by the police when we didn't even do nothin'! My nigga Andre was just tellin' me 'bout a bit not too long ago about some Andy Giffith lookin' mother fucker pullin' him over in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, farm land, USA! Claimin' he was speedin', makin' shit up about a turn signal being out and then claimin' he could smell weed on him and my nigga wasn't even carryin' that day! It was some real sketchy shit and it happens everyday for my people! They just assume we all criminals! Long story short, the honky let my brother pull away with just a warning. AH! THANK YA MASSAH!
But beyond that, let's say a black child goes missin', the news ain't gonna cover that! A brother gets killed? The police don't care! Just another nigga down! And if the police so happens to kill one of these 'niggas' then they are let off the hook or even praised for their bravery! Fuck that! Ain't nobody who's livin' large gonna care about the struggle down here! And trust me, the struggle is fuckin' real!
Hell, I am almost afraid to step into the ring with Gemini! Didn't he kill that Holden fuck? Now, House of Ophelia and Henson in general are three-edgy-five-me, know what I'm sayin'? But they didn't deserve that! Think if that happened to a black man! Not one of those fans would care! They would just move on! How is my brother Andre supposed to feel comfortable in a world like that!? Gemini could get away with murder again! He didn't get in trouble for last time, so they won't bat an eye-lash this time! How do you not see what is goin' on?!?...
I wiped my forehead of sweat that had been building up on the make up, causing some of the blackness to be smeared off, revealing the whiteness underneath.
John Gable: Maybe the question has popped into your head. “I get your point, Gable, and it's a good one. But did you have to go to unneeded measures to present it?” But what you don't realize is I didn't dawn this make up and this attitude for the joke or for the cynicism! I dawned it to mirror that of Hollywod and to a point that of the world! What is black culture now is a mutilation! It is a bastardization with a white illuminati hiding underneath! They actively try to turn black culture around on itself! To make it seem stupid, disorganized, and unintelligible! They change the focus from equality and respect, to money and bitches! They trap the people into a pigeon hole and multiple the brutality so they don't escape! They cut up the speech so they can't converse with the outside world! But the problem is Black America is watching and learning! They have noticed the white supremacy strategy and are now fighting back. Lil-Wayne is death, Kendrick Lamar is life! The Jazz Singer is forgotten! Creed is forever! And the people who built this system are scared. They hope the apathy they gave white america will have it fade or the hate they gave them will suffocate it! But no! It is too late! The movement is being noticed and it is gaining traction!
I start frantically wiping all the make up off until it is just a cloudy black stain on my face.
John Gable: Soon enough you will see that Best Director will go to a Black Man that didn't need to helm a slavery picture! Black football players won't be referred to as “thugs”. A new black wrestler who isn't a PIMP will hold that World Heavyweight Title and there is nothing the white establishment will be able to about it...If you want to talk about a real revolt! This one will trounce Rebellution! No one will remember those fuckwits in the records of time! And this slam will be the first step as Andre and I bring them down with the black rage that fills us both! We both know how it is to be rejected by society and now we need to show that society doesn't get to choose! Black Shadow rises! White Lightning falls! HOLLYWOOD AND WCF WILL REGRET EVER FUCKING ME!
I spat into the lense of the camera before knocking it to the side to get passed out of frame.
