The internet is quite a forum for letting it all hang out. I certainly don’t share the depth of intimate details with perfect strangers that I encounter face-to-face, that I’m willing to share with personal strangers who remain faceless on the other end of an internet connection. The medium is a remarkable venue for confession, community, and self-disclosure. Clearly, it’s also a medium ripe with opportunities to behave poorly.
I’ve noticed an uptick in the number of people attempting to comment on this blog using non-Latin-based characters and embedded with multiple links. While I sincerely appreciate the international following that the blog might attract, just be forewarned that any comments with embeds will be rejected, and the only non-English comments permitted will be those written in Swedish (ask Swito). I do my best to be a generous host, so I expect my guests to behave themselves appropriately. Embeds with potentially dangerous links are bad manners. To those of you who might want to comment with embeds linked to spyware or other noxious tricks, I think someone needs to sit you down and teach you a thing or two about manners.
Similarly, the large number of notes I get each day notifying me that I’ve won Britain’s national lottery are just bad form. No I will not give you my bank account number so that you can deposit the millions of pounds to which I have miraculously become entitled. I won’t give you my bank account number so that you can give me your dead husband’s millions in oil revenue from Africa. I won’t give you my bank account number in order to assist you in a most profitable business venture. I could not, would not in a house. I could not, would not with a mouse.
I’m just talking about good manners. Don’t try to steal what doesn’t belong to you. Don’t prey on the naive. Don’t bilk the simple-minded or gullible. It’s just bad form. And to those of you who persist in angling to cheat and steal, trick and betray, I can only hope that someday someone will powerslam your ass so hard your teeth rattle, climb on top of your chest, pin your throat to the floor and spit in your face until you submit, relent, and think better of your bad behavior in the future.
Emotionally crushed by Chris Cuomo’s announcement today that he’s abandoning me in the mornings, I’m thinking about how I’ll miss the display of his beauty each day. Hunks on display is a big part of what gets me going. For example, straight-up aggressive fighting often isn’t a pretty sight. The action is frequently up close, with a lot of clutches that obscure the action and the bodies, victory determined by subtle points of pressure rather than dramatic displays of dominance. But pro-wrestling and homoerotic wrestling know what the audience is looking for: beautiful bodies on display. So even when it isn’t particularly effective combat, the pros make the display of suffering bodies as much an art as a science. Victory may not be defined by some of these exhibitionist moves, but satisfying the fans is.
Wrestling Arsenal, which I’m thrilled is now blogging, has a huge catalogue of the wrestling art of displaying suffering hunks. The kneeboard that stretches out this captured stud is a classic example. As the sadist focuses his torture on the center of his victim’s back, the rest of us are treated to the stunning display of that massive chest, the sweaty abs, and the spread-eagle display centering his crotch. It’s about the struggle, the suffering, the pain… but it’s most certainly also about the stunning display of a hot, muscled body.
In the Can-Am classic match up of Vic Silver vs. Johnny Lightning, musclegod Vic transitions a double hammerlock into this fantastic variation, lifting Johnny entirely off his feet and suspending the suffering hunk’s body. Truthfully, a position like this requires some serious cooperation between these two competitors. This doesn’t just happen in the beat down of one man on another. But this isn’t just about the beat down. It’s about the exploration of Johnny’s gorgeous body, all his muscles and power laid out vulnerably and helplessly for our appraisal and, let’s face it, worship. Vic owns Johnny here, and generously, he shares his stunning prize with those of us watching on in awe.
Steve Arnold and Doug Brandon square off in another Can-Am oldie. Again, the double hammer lock ostensibly tells the story of Doug’s dominance over oil-soaked bodybuilder Steve. Doug’s gloating smile looking down on the anguish contorting Steve’s face tells the story of the sadist feeding his lust for humiliating a muscle jobber. But the other story, the implied story, is that we, through the lens of the camera, are being treated to the awesome display of Steve’s rippled torso immobilized and presented for our lustful gaze. Steve is Doug’s victim here, but he’s our trophy, thoughtfully oiled up, trussed up, and humiliated for our appreciation.
No one understands this better than BG East’s Kid Leopard. Kid has always been the master of not only dominating and humiliating his studly opponents, but positioning them in such a way as to lay them open in astonishingly intimate and vulnerable ways that invite us to examine every crack and crevice of their beautiful form. It’s no wonder Kid is a successful promoter, because he obviously knows what the audience wants to see, and he’s happy to oblige us. Kid twists and ties them, squeezes and pries them into such bizarre, exposed, suspended positions of vulnerability that we can’t help be marvel at the beauty of the captured male body. In his dismantling of Dick the Prick in Submissions 4, from his feet he manages to spread his opponent’s legs wide, crush the jobbers chin to his chest, and display Dick’s ass, package, taut legs, and muscled abs and chest all in one pretty picture. This surely wasn’t the most direct route to defeating the stud, but it was undoubtedly one of the hottest thanks to Kid’s generous, thoughtful, artistry in displaying the helpless hunk for our benefit.