Post by Jack of Blades on Apr 13, 2006 16:53:01 GMT -5
(It is an empty WCF Arena. It’s the median of inactivity and vibrancy. The desolation is increased by its purpose going unfulfilled. The ring is still erect but there are no observers. The garish lights have been reduced to a few 50 watt ones sporadically placed around the stature of the arena. Only a few cameramen surrounding the ring seem to be present. That is until the vibrations of Ennio Morricone’s Whistling Overture break the stale hue of dust. It’s Jack. But he’s different. He’s not smiling and he’s at the top of the ramp when this is not the night of the game. He is lacking his usual dinner-suit but his black trench coat is present. Jeans also suggest causality, as does his new T-shirt. The new piece of attire is merchandise from the WCF. It depicts a figure made up of two-halves. On the T-Shirts left side, stands half of an office worker carrying a lunchbox. The opposing side is made up of Jack of Blades’ right half. This side carries a microphone. The left ‘normal’ side is surrounded by the word ‘Apollo’ whereas ‘Dionysus’ surrounds Jack’s right side. However, it should be noted that Jack is not in a casual mode. He enters the ring lacking his usually permeating smile.)
Jack of Blades: This was meant to be a routine speech about my next match. I was supposed to discuss the nature of contradictions that would be present in my next bout. But recent events have changed that. Recent discussions have altered that.
Here I was, and here I was supposed to tell you about the thesis and the antithesis teaming together to battle the hypothesis. I was supposed to talk how in would be a sane and insane person teaming up. How it was supposed to be an introvert partnering with an extrovert. How the wealthy and the impoverished would form a coherent force. How stoicism and lunacy would be united for that one night. And I was supposed to say how this contradictory pair would battle another team of opposing predicates. How little and large would team. How normal and oddity would function correctly together. How mental defects were to face aesthetic defects. But she changed that.
Now I’m here to talk about two things and they both concern her:
Firstly, I’m going to address how Ms. Davis has effectively committed Hari Kari. You see, Ellis dared to say that she was a child prodigy. Much like Jack Blaine Nolan. Only Ellis Davis, only she was better than Jack Blaine Nolan. She was so intelligent, so incredible that she got removed from the debilitating regime known as the education system.
Why is this pivotal? Why is this important? Because she just made me ordinary, that’s why. You see, I like to think of myself, Jack of Blades, as being the ultimate end of mankind. Everyone will eventually evolve into me and simultaneously devolve into madness. The office worker who kills his co-workers with a semi-automatic. Me. The doctor who swaps freshly born babies around for funsies. Me. I’m the consummate result of our collective squalor. I’m the final formation of the average man.
Only I wasn’t average. There were two things stopping me from being average. A love of wrestling. The bastard art form. Wrestling fans aren’t exactly classified as average anymore. Without the ‘big three’, they were a dying species. But Ace, that fuckwit, he took it aware from me. When he joined in with my forbidden hobby, he become the father of Jack of Blades. And now, well now, you’ve become the mother.
I was the child prodigy. My intelligence kept me above being average. But you reduced Jack Blaine Nolan to normalcy. And in doing so, you furthered my evolution. Now I truly represent the angst of the masses. I truly represent the homicidal office worker or the perverted medical graduate. And it’s time for me to repay the favour.
This brings me onto the second reason I’m here. After you revealed your hidden intelligence, you then had the gall to ask me what I wanted from you? Well, at first, I didn’t particularly warrant you with any importance. At Blast, I attacked you out of boredom. It’s that simple. But now. Now, I’m here to commit incest. I’m here to become my mother’s father.
When I stare at your scarred fragile body, I see Jack Blaine Nolan waiting to be liberated from those restraints of mental coherence. I see your need to rebel against the appalling hand you’ve been dealt. I went insane when the plainness of existence spat in my face. You oppose me in that it won’t be normalcy that drives you insane. It will be the deprivation of it. But the end result and the catalyst will be the same: moi.
I rebel against the mundane life expectancy we are faced with. You’ll rebel at the fact that the patriarch of family never gave you a life. I rebel at the insatiable appetite for IKEA products. You’ll rebel at the fact your appetite will never be satisfied by anything other than bloodletting. I rebel against idols being plastered with merchandise such as this construct from WCF’s advertising department.
(Jack points to his shirt before taking it off and angrily heaving it into the empty seats.)
You’ll rebel against the fact that you’re being turned into the Jack’s Queen. And don’t bother starting your heart ‘a’ pumping. This isn’t a matter of attraction. This is a matter of evolution.
[glow=blue,2,300]And Thus Spoke Zarathustra.[/glow]
Jack of Blades: This was meant to be a routine speech about my next match. I was supposed to discuss the nature of contradictions that would be present in my next bout. But recent events have changed that. Recent discussions have altered that.
Here I was, and here I was supposed to tell you about the thesis and the antithesis teaming together to battle the hypothesis. I was supposed to talk how in would be a sane and insane person teaming up. How it was supposed to be an introvert partnering with an extrovert. How the wealthy and the impoverished would form a coherent force. How stoicism and lunacy would be united for that one night. And I was supposed to say how this contradictory pair would battle another team of opposing predicates. How little and large would team. How normal and oddity would function correctly together. How mental defects were to face aesthetic defects. But she changed that.
Now I’m here to talk about two things and they both concern her:
Firstly, I’m going to address how Ms. Davis has effectively committed Hari Kari. You see, Ellis dared to say that she was a child prodigy. Much like Jack Blaine Nolan. Only Ellis Davis, only she was better than Jack Blaine Nolan. She was so intelligent, so incredible that she got removed from the debilitating regime known as the education system.
Why is this pivotal? Why is this important? Because she just made me ordinary, that’s why. You see, I like to think of myself, Jack of Blades, as being the ultimate end of mankind. Everyone will eventually evolve into me and simultaneously devolve into madness. The office worker who kills his co-workers with a semi-automatic. Me. The doctor who swaps freshly born babies around for funsies. Me. I’m the consummate result of our collective squalor. I’m the final formation of the average man.
Only I wasn’t average. There were two things stopping me from being average. A love of wrestling. The bastard art form. Wrestling fans aren’t exactly classified as average anymore. Without the ‘big three’, they were a dying species. But Ace, that fuckwit, he took it aware from me. When he joined in with my forbidden hobby, he become the father of Jack of Blades. And now, well now, you’ve become the mother.
I was the child prodigy. My intelligence kept me above being average. But you reduced Jack Blaine Nolan to normalcy. And in doing so, you furthered my evolution. Now I truly represent the angst of the masses. I truly represent the homicidal office worker or the perverted medical graduate. And it’s time for me to repay the favour.
This brings me onto the second reason I’m here. After you revealed your hidden intelligence, you then had the gall to ask me what I wanted from you? Well, at first, I didn’t particularly warrant you with any importance. At Blast, I attacked you out of boredom. It’s that simple. But now. Now, I’m here to commit incest. I’m here to become my mother’s father.
When I stare at your scarred fragile body, I see Jack Blaine Nolan waiting to be liberated from those restraints of mental coherence. I see your need to rebel against the appalling hand you’ve been dealt. I went insane when the plainness of existence spat in my face. You oppose me in that it won’t be normalcy that drives you insane. It will be the deprivation of it. But the end result and the catalyst will be the same: moi.
I rebel against the mundane life expectancy we are faced with. You’ll rebel at the fact that the patriarch of family never gave you a life. I rebel at the insatiable appetite for IKEA products. You’ll rebel at the fact your appetite will never be satisfied by anything other than bloodletting. I rebel against idols being plastered with merchandise such as this construct from WCF’s advertising department.
(Jack points to his shirt before taking it off and angrily heaving it into the empty seats.)
You’ll rebel against the fact that you’re being turned into the Jack’s Queen. And don’t bother starting your heart ‘a’ pumping. This isn’t a matter of attraction. This is a matter of evolution.
[glow=blue,2,300]And Thus Spoke Zarathustra.[/glow]
