Art provokes. That’s the bottom line for me. If it’s too obvious, then it’s journalism. If it’s so esoteric that I don’t care, it’s folly. But if I’m provoked, if it makes me do a double take, if I’m perplexed, aroused, indignant or adamant in response, then it must be art. Like the Supreme Court’s struggle to define obscenity, I may not always have an objective definition of art, but I know it when I see it. Like the sight of Rocco’s face squashed underneath Kid Karisma’s ass while Kid leans back to crush his opponent’s skull, grimacing in concentration as if on the threshold of ecstatic climax… that’s art, boys.
“Every Once in a while, a wrestler comes out of nowhere and blazes across the sky like a meteor, or a shooting star. Kid Karisma, blessed with a ripped physique, energy, personality and wrestling skill to spare, is one of those blazing stars.”
That’s the beginning of the text-teaser for BG East’s new product, Gear Wars 1. I love reading lines that like. They transport a sincere little production from softcore porn into ancient Greek melodrama. Text like that sets us up to recognize hot, sweaty scrappers hurting one another on wrestling mats as the Olympic gods that they truly are, playing out their private battles for all of us to watch, admire, pick sides and own our little piece of the divine drama.
A perceptive author painted the picture of Kid Karisma for us as “this Teutonic god-like young man with the impressive torso, sculpted arms, and beauteous bulbous butt.” This is what good text does for this genre. It puts its finger precisely on the obvious truth staring us in the face, but it does it with such skill and art that we see more than we may have seen without it. Yes, Kid Karisma is indeed Teutonic god-like. I’d never have thought of him in those terms, but now that you mention it, that’s exactly what he is! His ass is indeed a beauteous bulbous butt. It’s not like I hadn’t noticed, but the alliteration and string of apt adjectives capture precisely what is so stunning about Kid’s ass.
The text here is like 3-D glasses at the movie theater. It’s not as if we can’t appreciate the 2 dimensional pictures on the screen without them, but the words of the craftsman bring the images into high definition. They make that bulbous butt pop right out of the screen. They trigger our imaginative perception that makes us experience this not like a photo album, but as if that gorgeous ass was right in our faces, as if we could actually reach out and grab those astonishing cheeks in the palms of our hands and feel the muscled heft of that jaw-dropping derriere.
The byline for this pic of Kid captures my thoughts exactly. “Kid Karisma: They don’t come any more iconic than this. Tom of Finland and MATT would love this guy!” And there it is again, precisely! Kid in his tube socks and jock strap, with that astounding ass looks exactly like a caricature of a homoerotic wrestling character from the classic artists of the genre. Spot-on description for the almost unspeakable beauty of a freckle-faced red-head with the body ripped directly out of my most cherished fantasies.
And art and capitalism intersect at the point that I see the photos; I read the text; my heart begins to race as my hand is drawn, as if by a mind of its own, to my swelling cock. And I am provoked to own a copy of the divine drama for myself.