So—you call yourself a writer…when all you know is how to compose and present beautifully written and captivating novels and short stories? Are you perplexed when agents and publishers turn you down time and time again, especially when many of the best-selling authors you read write nothing but flat, generic, easily forgettable beach book blather?
Well, here at the Apex Technical School of Bogus Creative Writing, we’ll teach how to pen and submit smut, junk, basic blood-and-gore-trash, and even children’s books by accident! But that’s not all! If you act now, we’ll get you started in our comprehensive workshop that will teach you how to downgrade your talent to the point where you’ll be able to write in a typo laden, loathsome, threadbare, shock-value-only style that will cause agents and publishers to say YES! But remember, we can’t call you—you must CALL US!
I was three years old and I trailed close behind Aunt Nancy as she commenced up the snowy walkway with purpose and finality, as though she sought to once and for all remove the inconvenience of unraveling herself from me.
So that’s the place, I thought, when an enormous dark stone house came into view. It had stained-glass windows, but unlike the church next to it, not all the windows were stained glass. The house property was bordered by a tall, thick, black wrought-iron gate; each foreboding spike topped with a pointy arrow.
Above the framed entrance there hung a large black rectangular sign with indented and eerie words painted in gold:
THE KINDERFREUND HOME FOR CHILDREN
I was not pleased, and judging by the suitcases waiting at the door, this was to be my home…for a long time.
After spending yet another weekend day getting drunk at the local watering hole, I stood up from my wobbly stool and grabbed my cold, dripping 12-pack of Heineken off the ancient mahogany bar to finish the job at home.
"You have a good day, Joe," stoically waved George the bartender. "And watch out, there's ice everywhere...and merry Christmas."
Well I'll be damned, I forgot it was the 25th; but who in their right mind forgets when it's Christmas Day?
Well I do...because when I was a little kid, my parents and even my grandparents on my father's side couldn't resist killing each other or somebody else, separating me from them and my and siblings forever. So why should I give up my weekend "job" just to celebrate Christmas with people who don't breathe anymore?
They say that back in the day, aged American Indians hobbled off alone to a sacred hill or valley and they sat and waited until their bodies mercifully expired and their souls shot up into the heavens. We alcoholic fuck-ups who crossed the invisible line of no return lumbered off to revered places too; mangy morgue-like holding tanks called bars for big-league drinkers who needed a no-frills sanctuary secluded from milk-sops, gossipy fancy-drink dabblers, yarn spinning weekend warriors, the "I have to be home by six or my will kill me" types, and anyone else who still had hope; whose dreams tomorrow outweighed the regrets of yesteryear.
Well, I selected my sacred spot and I waited--and waited, but to me, Death said 'No' and I wondered why. Maybe there was no answer; just a bunch of crazy questions like those asked by intake doctors during my three separate stays locked up a detox ward, slow-dancing the Librium shuffle with the other bloated red-faced alkies, tract-marked stick-armed heroin addicts, and wide-eyed, coke-slamming, emaciated Charles Manson look-alikes.
It took my drunken soul 25-plus-years of involuntary self-induced pain, guilt, and shame of living the rum-hound lifestyle until somebody finally whispered these life-saving words in my ear: "If you really want out, find somebody you can trust and tell them the worst things you've ever done because you're only as sick as your secrets. Then hit AA meetings as often as you used to hit the bars, and make sure you don't drink today because you may be strong, but booze is stronger. Do these things and before you know it, you'll run out of reasons to drink because, after all, there'll be nothing left to escape from."
Virtually all MMA fans know who Dana White is—and the controversy which follows him everywhere.
Like him or loathe him, it appears that Dana is here to stay...maybe. And while most MMA followers are aware that Dana played a big part in salvaging the UFC organization from bankruptcy, thus turning it into a mega-million-dollar industry, many MMA fans avoid paying to watch UFC PPV events in favor viewing other less expensive MMA organizations.
One thing is for sure: The UFC is the most recognized Mixed Martial Arts title in the world. And, for the most part, they have the best fighters in the world.
But the UFC is far from being glitch-free. And I wonder whether or not Dana is aware of the problems regarding regulations and business ethics - or if he even cares.
Here are five MMA questions I would ask Dana White.
(1) Will you ever relax the contractual obligations of your fighters?
The UFC fans have been denied intriguing match-ups between UFC fighters and those from other top-tier MMA organizations.
For instance, the UFC has some sure-bet monster heavyweight new-comers who, after a few more fights, might be serious contenders to defeat Fedor Emelianenko. I see huge PPV windfalls for the UFC, but only if Joe Silva can bring championship match-ups that the fans really want to see.
Why not permit limited and structured cross promoting, especially in leu of the rash of injuries suffered by his top cash-cows? Does Dana White really want his organization to lose credibility by hyping a main event consisting of a 46-year-old Randy Couture, who has lost one-third of his fights, vs. an often defeated, 45-year-old Mark Coleman?
(2) You’ve taken a position that women won’t ever fight in the UFC – what will it take to alter that position?
Creative marketing ploys and investments would make female MMA fighters UFC-worthy, make no mistake. Look at it this way: Dana can market a 39-year-old guy (Chuck Liddell) who lost four out of his last five fights to headline a UFC event, yet he denies women even the chance to showcase their skills in the octagon.
Does continuously tapping the till of the UFC's stable of washed up fighters, but denying spots for highly motivated & well-trained MMA female athletes represent Dana's idea of long-term success?
The thing is, while MMA is gaining mainstream popularity, its fans are becoming more sophisticated and demographically broader.
(3) As front man and part owner of the UFC, every move you make is scrutinized by the media. Are you comfortable with the image you’ve created?
Whether Dana's public outbursts and expletive-laden tirades are part of a “tell it like it is” persona he continues to cultivate as a deliberate marketing ploy, his behavior will be the moving force for the 30-and over consumer bracket to turn their collective back on the UFC product. Most younger UFC fans seem to have no problem with Dana's now-signature controversial rantings. In fact, many actually embrace and justify his foul language and attitude. But I wonder...when social activist groups publicly object to bald-faced verbal abuse aimed directly at them, are they are being overly sensitive? Are they even entitled to challenge Dana's right to freedom of speech, or in many cases, slander?
(4) Which MMA rules and regulations would you change… which would you eliminate?
I wonder what, if anything, Dana would change to benefit the UFC as a whole. He seems satisfied that the UFC rules are effective regarding the fighters’ safety. And even though marred by the States Athletic Commissions inaccurate scoring system, Dana is probably too rigid to consider adjusting the UFC round structure similar to that of former Pride FC.
I’ll bet a ten-minute first round and a five-minute second round would spruce things up. And, what the hell—toss in a third five-minute round for championship fights. Here’s a regulation change: An occasional UFC tournament format, instead of the same stale fight-card structure? Get creative, man!
(5) Many MMA fans think the UFC is becoming too boxing-like in both atmosphere and guiding principle. Why do you think that is?
Some UFC fans think it’s time for a super heavyweight class. Brock Lesnar’s size pretty much started the ball rolling on that one. I believe that the UFC already has too many weight classes—that the game is watered down enough as it is. As a whole, UFC fighters feel less inclined to work the ground game than they used to. And since the fans are paying to see slugfests and knockouts, of course Dana, the referees, and the ringside judges want the same thing as well.
The problem is, MMA stands for Mixed Martial Arts, not pro boxing.
George St-Pierre and Anderson Silva will probably never fight each other (at least not in the UFC), because there are two weight divisions separating them (that means three by fight time).
Thank you once again, UFC, for allowing yet another fight that fans want to see not happen because you have too many weight classes…or there’s a contractual problem, or somebody has a hangnail, or some banana cut himself shaving, or somebody’s Visa has expired.
So, how can we circumvent Dana White’s ass-dragging and get those two to fight each other despite all that? It’s simple. We don’t need the UFC! We’ll simply out bid them without them knowing it and make our own fight card! Just remember the code of omerta! (Silence!)
How about PPV YouTube? Think about it. Many of you hardcore MMA fans around the U.S. and Canada shell out about $50.00 to watch a UFC event. Well, why not just *invest* $25.00 each to pick our own match-ups instead of the slop that Joe Silva and Dana want to feed us?
It’s simple. All you have to do is ship me your money orders. And to avoid nosy IRS agents, I have honest relatives up in North Jersey with a lot of vowels in their last names. They’ll cash us in and then launder the money.
The hook here is that all the fighters get paid immediately after the fight. Let’s say we offer the main event guys a million apiece. I’ll bet George St-Pierre and Anderson Silva will take a tax free cool million on the spot (in small unmarked bills, of course).
Now for the setup: I know upstanding church-going people in the Bloomfield area with a backyard in a “connected neighborhood.” We get Kimbo Slice to referee. (Who knows more about YouTube fighting than Kimbo)? Then I’ll hit a local strip-joint and grab about eight drunken construction workers to fill the under-card.
Now, I believe in fighters’ safety first. So I’ll hand-pick an honest neighborhood crack dealer who’s working his way through medical school. He can be the cut man/fight doctor.
And ring girls…what’s a fight card without ring girls? A half-dozen or so local hookers should do.
Now for the fight structure: Since the whole operation is illegal, must we really have rules? Of course we don’t. And do we need the extra expense of fight judges? Hell no; the spectators would only pay them off to win bets anyway.
How about a one-hour time limit with a 10-minute overtime for the championship fight and a thirty-minute time limit for the construction workers? To save money, we’ll have a *drunken fighter* round-robin tournament using random draws, and the winner gets 10K.
The losers get free beer all night at the No-tell Motel, and the “ring girls” can help nurse their wounds. See? Everybody comes out a winner!
