Michael Dyson Versus Cornel West is Not Boxing, It is Professional Wrestling

Michael Dyson and Cornel West are involved in a very public and ugly feud.

Dyson attempted to "ether" West in an almost 10,000 word essay written for The New Republic called "The Ghost of Cornel West".

Dave Zirin, sports writer, intellectual, and all around smart guy at The Nation offered up the following observation about Dyson versus West in his essay "Cornel West Is Not Mike Tyson":

As a sportswriter I am very sensitive to the use and misuse of boxing metaphors. Few analogies are either more powerful or more universally understood than comparing a public figure to an iconic fighter. Dr. Michael Eric Dyson, in a panoramic, painfully personal, deeply researched 10,000-word excoriation of Dr. Cornel West, published in The New Republic, has compared the 61-year-old professor to Mike Tyson. He describes West as someone who once “tore through opponents with startling menace and ferocity,” but who has since devolved into a “faint echo of himself,” an ear-biting sideshow, more interested in celebrity than serious academic and political work. 

With all respect to Dyson, who wrote the intro to my book Game Over and has been a friend to me on numerous occasions, this is in my view the wrong choice of championship pugilists. West is not Mike Tyson: he’s Muhammad Ali. 

Not the Muhammad Ali of ESPN hagiographies or Hollywood films starring Will Smith. But the real Muhammad Ali: effortlessly provocative, undeniably narcissistic, and unquestionably brilliant. 

The deeply hurtful quotes that West has aimed at Dyson (he has “prostituted himself intellectually”) and Dr. Melissa Harris-Perry (“she is a liar and a fraud”) are 21st-century iterations of Ali’s regrettable, and for many unforgivable, questioning of the blackness of the great Joe Frazier, comparing the proud fighter to an ugly gorilla, all in the name of hyping up fights and throwing Frazier off of his game.

[And if a person really wants to understand the meta game between West and Dyson they need to read Political Scientist Dr. Adolph Reed Jr.'s classic article "What are the Drums Saying Booker?"]

I largely agree with Zirin's take on the fracas. However, he is too generous in his analysis of the organic nature of the dispute. Nevertheless, Dave Zirin also has a large piece of the puzzle mostly figured out.

Michael Dyson versus Cornel West is more like professional wrestling than it is boxing.

I offer some additional connective tissue for Zirin's great essay.

Muhammad Ali was a huge fan of professional wrestling and credits Gorgeous George as a having had a great influence on his style, demeanor, and ability to work an audience:

Gorgeous George would shout, bulge his eyes and threaten to annihilate his ''enemy." Some of his opponents feared George's tough talk outside the ring far more than his technique inside it. In short order, the anger aimed at him made him one of wrestling's - and television's - biggest attractions. And he cried all the way to the bank. 

His act lasted so long that a little-known boxer named Cassius Marcellus Clay, who won the 1960 light heavyweight championship in the Rome Olympics, took careful note of George's success. 

"Soon after I turned pro," Cassius mused, "I discovered that even though I won the Olympic title, I wasn't making any money. I was the only champion that didn't have no jack jangling in his jeans. So I studied Gorgeous George and began doing his act better than he did it. 

"Before I became champ, I used to go in the ring and fight and when I went to the dressing room, people didn't pay much attention to me," Ali recalled years later. "One night, I was watching Gorgeous George on TV. He was jumping around making a lot of noise and threatening his opponents and I said to myself, 'this guy's on to something.' I think I'll put some of that in my act." 

Boxing fans plunked down their hard-earned cash to see Ali get knocked out. But alas, he had become as fine a boxer as he was a showman, and routinely whipped his opponents - "as if I was their daddy," he enjoyed saying. 

He also told reporters he probably owed Gorgeous George a lot of money: "Wasn't for him, nobody would have heard of me," Ali insisted."I didn't use no perfume or high heels, but I became real boisterous and the fans began paying attention to me. They hated my poetry and came to see if I would knock out my opponents in the round I'd predict. Fans would spend their money and rush to my fights, hoping to see me get my head whupped."

I have no doubt that the animus between West and Dyson is real. But, there is more money to be made in the build up, climax, and then blow off match, than there is in Dyson and West being compadres and brothers in arms forever.

As in other areas of life, we and they make up to break up.

For example, West, Dyson, and Smiley made a ton of money on their various tours during the Age of Obama and the twilight years of Bush II.

What better way is there to make money and get attention, i.e. return to relevance in popular culture and among the more literate audiences for the chattering classes, than to have a feud between former "brothers?"

Emotional issues between talented competitors plus good creative equals cash in professional wrestling.

It is no different in the world of public intellectuals.

West and Dyson will feud today. This will put a butt every 18 inches in a seat. West and Dyson will reconcile and sell it as a story about two lions and titans in the Black Prophetic Tradition who love justice and "The People" so much that they had to duel in order to place their ideas in a fiery crucible as a way of reducing their brilliance down to its essence.

Public jawing is West's and Dyson's way of applying black intellectual power to Plato's Theory of the Forms.

If Dick Gregory is not available to referee the series of matches between Michael Dyson and Cornel West, I am more than willing to do it for a very agreeable rate of payment.

Richard Sherman and the Perils of Alpha Male Black Masculinity: I Wonder, What Would Happen if He Channeled 'Conan the Barbarian' or 'The Gladiator?'

I am meditating on what the silly controversy about an alpha male multimillionaire athlete named Richard Sherman, who completed a highlight reel reception during the Seahawks' victory over the San Francisco 49ers on Sunday, reveals about the precarious nature of black masculinity and celebrity in the post civil rights era.

A moment of confession. As much as I respect the sociology of sports it is hard for me to muster up any sense of disgust or upsetness about a group of millionaires putting on a public show to hype up the Superbowl. We always sell "the sizzle not the steak". Moreover, I think that as demonstrated in his interview with Skip Bayless, that Richard Sherman is a bit of a jerk who is premature in his proclamations of career-long greatness.

However, please do not misunderstand my thoughts about Richard Sherman. The negative response to his interview on ESPN from some people, across the color line, is a telling moment--one that reminds us of how black men are held to higher standards of comportment and public behavior than white folks in American society.

Why? American society is profoundly uncomfortable with confident, assertive, black masculinity. There is a paradox here: black masculinity is feared, worshiped, and loathed--often at the same time, and by the same people. The mass media and culture industry profits from the spectacle.

Two questions.

What if Richard Sherman (or another successful and confident black male athlete) gave a speech similar to that of Russell Crow's character from the movie Gladiator?

Would he be loathed and criticized? By who?

What if Richard Sherman (or another successful and confident black male athlete) gave a declaration of life's virtues and meaning akin to that of Conan: The Barbarian?

Would he be loathed and criticized? By who?

Richard Sherman is causing a ruckus because he is a confident black alpha male who destroyed his foes--and then boasted about it--without any worries about being "classy" or appropriately deferent. Why should he? And are matters either that complicated or simple?

A Japanese Poem by Yosa Buson For the 2014 AFC Championship Game Between the New England Patriots and the Denver Colts

Are you all ready for a great game of football? A match-up between two of the greatest quarterbacks to ever play the game?

My bus and bar book for the week is Phillip K. Dick's The Man in the High Castle. It contains a Japanese poem by Yosa Buson, one that presciently describes today' AFC and NFC championship contests:

As the spring rains fall, soaking in them, on the roof, is a child's rag ball.

I am still trying to decipher its meaning(s).

The AFC Championship game will be close...too close for my comfort. My prediction? The team who has the ball last will be victorious.

If my beloved New England Patriots win I will eat a celebratory dinner.

If my beloved New England Patriots lose I will eat a dinner in honor of their struggle.

What teams do you think will win today and make an appearance in the Superbowl?

Denver is it. Now we wait for the other half of the equation.

Open Thread: It Ain't the Thrilla in Manila; Romney-Obama 3 is Tonight. What are Your Thoughts and Predictions?

The debate is a few hours away. In the public interest, I am trying to preempt the obvious boxing analogies which will come from the media and pundit class in the post-debate analysis.

And as you know, I am a huge fan of Muhammad Ali. I also have come to understand and respect (the late) Joe Frazier.



The Romney-Obama debate on international affairs is not Ali-Frazier 3, the legendary Thrilla in Manila. When someone suggests that it is, when you see said claim online, or if Ali-Frazier is paired with Obama-Romney as the meme of the week, please do chime in with a basic question.

After tonight's debate did either Romney or Obama say that this was the closest to death he had ever been? The answer will reveal how the horse race has become a type of prize fight, one that is better described as either a carnival act or professional wrestling.

Also, can the following be said about Romney and Obama?

"Technically the loser of two of the three fights, [Frazier] seems not to understand that they ennobled him as much as they did Ali," wrote Pulitzer Prize-winning author David Halberstam, "that the only way we know of Ali's greatness is because of Frazier's equivalent greatness, that in the end there was no real difference between the two of them as fighters, and when sports fans and historians think back, they will think of the fights as classics, with no identifiable winner or loser. These are men who, like it or not, have become prisoners of each other and those three nights."

I doubt it.

As others have alluded to, I think there will be lots of AIPAC and Americans United for Israel signals from Romney. Obama will mention Osama bin Laden several times (how things change when we live in a moment where the Democratic Party is now the Party of National Security). Romney will be a broken record on Libya and his myth about the President's apology tour; moreover, they will continue with the line designed to please the low information petit authoritarians on the Right that somehow Obama's "weakness" encourages America's enemies abroad.

Romney's amateurish approach to statecraft is equaled only by the 5th grade G.I. Joe level understanding of international relations offered up by the Tea Party GOP base.

In all, Obama has a record to defend. Romney, has no record (save for gaffes abroad)--this can be spun as a plus for there is no track record to evaluate him against. But, Obama can hammer him on his lack of experience. As I said earlier, the third debate is about style and posturing over substance. The issues are too complicated for the average voter to fully comprehend.

Regardless of what occurs, my prediction is that the pundits will call this third fight a draw. This narrative keeps the horse race meme going, and ramps up the drama for the next two weeks.

Your thoughts on tonight's debate? Any predictions?

Sorry, That Was No Rope-a-Dope, Barack Obama Got His Butt Kicked by Mitt Romney

In a fight between an enthusiastic lie and a tepid truth the former will always win. The most noble of us will hold on to the abstract virtues of the truth. Pragmatists will understand that a win is a win regardless of how it is delivered.

The supporters and allies of the President are trying to "spin" a basic and self-evident fact: Barack Obama got his butt kicked by Mitt Romney in their first debate.

In their efforts to salvage victory from the jaws of (obvious) defeat, Obama's people are making claims about the long game. Apparently, Obama is thinking several steps ahead, and Mitt Romney's naked lies will come back to haunt him as the days to election day tick down. They are also making appeals to Political Science: research indicates that presidential debates have little impact on a given voter's choice come election day, so Obama's defeat in the first debate means little.

These are accurate observations. But, my favorite excuse and explanation is that President Obama is playing a game of rope-a-dope like Muhammad Ali; Obama had baited Romney and will close the deal in the debates to come.

When discussing politics, there is a great temptation to use boxing analogies. However, this temptation does not always make the analogy either a good fit or an apt description of reality.

This is the Point at Which I Swerve You: Loving the Rock's Boston History Themed Promo on John Cena

I would like to thank the kind folks over at Salon for featuring my piece on Rush Limbaugh and the Crisis in White Conservative Manhood (Crooks and Liars also gave it some love which is always appreciated) The piece is running about 12,000 views as of today...that ain't bad for a little armchair psychologizing of the Tea Party GOP's number one bloviator. I will also be on Ring of Fire Radio this weekend. The always supportive Mike Papantonio asked me to sit in for a few minutes. Of course, I accepted the generous invitation.

Consequently, there are some new readers here at WARN. I welcome you all. Do come out of lurking and introduce yourselves. By way of introduction, I am an unapologetic ghetto nerd. Blogging is an exercise in self-indulgence and narcissism. I try to write about issues of public concern, but I am ultimately beholden to my own interests, odd predilections, and hobbies. In short, you never know what you are going to get: for me, that is the fun of talking to different folks about random and varied topics both online and in person.

Wrestlemania is in the air. I had drifted away from the WWE's programming the last year or so. But as always, in the build up to Wrestlemania, things got interesting with the rise of "new"talent (CM Punk), the return of the greats (Undertaker, Shawn Michaels, and Chris Jericho), and the feud between the one and only Rock and that guy who goes by the name John Cena. The Rock is an amazing talent. We know this. But, his promo on Monday's Raw which managed to break the fourth wall by winking at the audience in the first segment, play around with the movie Back to the Future and racial identity (just what would the Framers do if they met the Rock?), and end by talking about Paul Revere's famous ride was genius.

Boston was an excellent prop for some highly entertaining storytelling through the devices of physicality, dexterous speech, and athleticism.In all, the Rock's promo was so solid that it rivaled the Revolutionary war revisionism in my favorite episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.

[Perhaps some intrepid soul will do a drunken history version of the Rock's rewrite of U.S. history? Could be fun...]

Those of us, we old time, smart marks who lived through the Attitude era were really and truly spoiled. Little did we realize what we were witnessing. Beyond the goodness of the Monday Night Wars, and early ECW, the mid to late nineties (into the first few years of the 2000s) was a golden age. Kayfabe had been broken; but, we still believed. There were performances like the Rock's on almost every show.

Is anyone else looking forward to Wrestlemania? Am I the only ghetto nerd excited to watch Cena and the Rock do the dance? The Rock has to drop the bout to Cena because Dwayne Johnson does not need to win. Nevertheless, the match should be a classic.For my ghetto nerd wrestling compadres, did we simply outgrow professional wrestling? Or has the product changed so much that it in fact left us, those who came of age in the 1980s and 1990s?

Football Theodicy? Tom Brady is to Tim Tebow as Stone Cold Steve Austin was to Jake the Snake Roberts

Oh Mr. Tebow, I know that the faithful Christian Nationalist evangelical Dominionists who believe that you are favored by Providence--and that God intervenes in football games--will valorize your suffering as it is both epic and prophetic.

But, I simply could not resist: Tom Brady and the Patriots just kicked your ass.

This begs a question: does Tebow's humiliation introduce a theodicy problem for his zealous faithful? How do they reconcile an all knowing, all loving, omniscient and omnipotent god with the existence of football evil in the form of the unholy trinity that is Brady-McDaniels-Belichick?

My Two Cents on the Devastating Loss of Wes Welker

I am no longer capable of being shocked into silence by the year which my New England Patriots have been having. Maybe we are the little engine that could? But I am not holding my breath. One thought though: Wes Welker is a great player hurt in a meaningless game against a hapless foe in the weekend prior to a wildcard game. Why Bill? Why?

In Bill we trust? Perhaps, but not as much as in seasons past

Courtesy of George King at Sports Illustrated:

Handicapping the NFL Field

NEW YORK -- Now that was a weird day. Sad with the devastating knee injury to one of the real poster children for everything that is good about the NFL, Wes Welker. Flummoxing with the total collapse of the Giants and Broncos. Maddening with starters sitting to some degree in six of the games involving playoff contenders ... and the weirdo Colts deciding that individual records are important a week after deciding 19-0 wasn't. Strangely undramatic for a Week 17, with only two win-and-get-in games, neither of which was any good -- the Ravens handling the Raiders with slight difficulty and the Jets handling the Bengals with none.

Eeriest part of the day: Houston safety Bernard Pollard landing on Welker after he had blown out his ACL and MCL early in Patriots-Texans and fallen to the ground in agony. This was 16 months after Pollard, then with Kansas City, had dove into Tom Brady's knee, shredding ligaments.

"I heard Wes yell out, the same way I heard Tom yell out,'' Pollard told me last night. "It was the same yell. It was terrible. He went down right in front of me. I saw his knee buckle, then I fell on him, and when he went down, I said, 'Just my luck.' ''

What are the odds of the same defender being at the epicenter of the temporary demise of two true New England heroes?...

The Chitlins and Gefilte Fish Project Presents freedarko’s Bethlehem Shoals

What follows is Bethlehem Shoals’ contribution to the Chitlins and Gefilte Fish Project, the Black-Jewish dialogue we're featuring this week.




Maybe I'm horribly naive, but I've never seen Black/Jewish relations as optional, largely symbolic, or defined solely by Crown Heights. Don't get me wrong, I'm not about "Jews were the Blacks of Eastern Europe," or "Blacks identify with the ancient Israelites, so THERE!" About the most shared identity I'll cop to is the following, written in response to Chauncey's opening salvo: "Blacks and Jews have stayed Black and Jewish in ways that the Irish and Italians haven't, and the story of Asian isn't (however unfairly) front and center in the story of this country."

Then again, the African-American experience and Jewish-American experience are so radically different, I don't even know if that similarity is anything more than a curiosity. As far as cultural narratives go, they're almost polar opposites: Jews came to America as a solution to their problems and now run the country (on the low); Blacks didn't get a say in their relocation, and have had every institution in the land conspiring against them ever since. One of their own is now the very conspicuous leader of the free world, and yet this one exceptional man is, well, the exception that proves the rule of day-to-day inequality. Not to mention that, as long as they're never asked to state their last name or reveal their privates, most every Jew can move through life like he was any other white person.

If Jews and Blacks aren't the same, then why talk? Because in addition to the indifference and acrimony, there's an affinity, a sense of having worked together well at times that have helped each define its contribution to American culture. History's no accident if it yields something worthwhile.



Most people—well, most Boomer Jews—who hold this view would point to Civil Rights, specifically the hopeful, integrated, idealistic movement that took to the South in the mid-1960's. When I tried my hand at writing pro-Obama letters to Jewish papers in Florida, I'd immediately point to the important bond formed between us at this crucial moment in history. But really, I know better than that. I'm not so sure Civil Rights really created a bridge between peoples, since only a few years later, a more radical, identity-conscious movement rejected this alliance. The bitterness some older Jews feel about the schism that emerged in the late 1960's are read by Blacks of the same generation as arrogance or condescension; the fact that the state of Black/Jewish relations has for the past 20 years been hung up on Farrakhan and Hasids is particularly sad, since it turns fringe elements into spokesmen for the two groups.

All of which brings me to the email from Gordon that started it all. I don't think it's by accident that it included the following line: "a series of collaborative blog posts exploring Black-Jewish relations from the perspective of left-leaning 30(ish)somethings whose formative years were informed by rap and sports." I'm sure everyone reading this knows that (pre-Obama), too many whites, including Jews, were most familiar with, or at least interested in, Blacks as athletes and entertainers. At the same time, too many young Blacks saw the NBA or a record deal as their only path to success. I can speak with anecdotal certainty in asserting that young Jews are more likely than other white people to develop a strong interest in Black music or or a more nuanced appreciation of sports. Like, in an all-consuming way.


Presumably, this just makes us the worst of all the appropriators and exploiters. The problem with Lou Reed's "I Wanna Be Black" isn't that it's inherently offensive, but that we can't ever fully believe that Lou Reed doesn't mean it. Less pointedly, it backs up Dr. LIC's theory that Jews are forever aspiring to a stereotypical Black form of "cool". On the other hand, if you comb through the annals of (Black) entertainment and sports, you'll also find a disproportionate number of Jews actually involved in some way. Were they driven to this role by some fetishitic urge? Or does their presence throughout history testify to a real collaboration, one that, if not readily explicable or always apparent, has left a lasting stamp on America without subsequently falling apart at the seams.




The ugliest form of this partnership is the money-grubbing agents, or "kosher lawyers." But in music, there are key figures—if almost always behind the scenes—like Jerry Wexler, Rick Rubin, Benny Goodman, Lou Adler, Lyor Cohen, David Axelrod, Lieber and Stoller, and yes, Phil Spector. Sam Cooke wrote "A Change Is Gonna Come" after hearing Dylan's "The Times They Are 'A Changin'", albeit because he felt it should be African-Americans writing this kind of anthem. The Beastie Boys, whatever their flaws, brought hip-hop to the pop mainstream. In sports, Jews once owned the sport of basketball, and then legendary coaches like Red Auerbach, Red Holzman, and Larry Brown cast a long shadow over the game as it became identified with African-Americans. Granted, this was often an unequal partnership. Even if the Jews weren't outright shady, they still occupied the position of power. Then again, as Gordon pointed out, how many people did James Brown swindle? And what, if anything, do we make of the strange saga of Bob Johnson?

If you outright reject placing too much, or any, significance on pop culture, then this relationship is all but meaningless. However, if you feel that these forms of production are never just about making a buck, or doing what comes naturally in front of an audience, then there's a connection there that was around before Civil Rights and outlasted its fragmentation. Sports and music should never be the extent of America. Nor do they have the gravity of a voter registration drive. But they're an important part of former, and were never completely unrelated to the latter. Besides, the impetus for this project was our shared interest in sports and hip-hop, which is at least a vestiginal trace of this relationship. And while this isn't a reason for instant familiarity between the two groups, it's at least a start. Not a common heritage, but two sides of one history.

draft Chauncey DeVega's World of Ghetto Nerds: The Wrestler Reviewed by a Smart Mark--There is No Old Timer's Day for Professional Wrestlers

We live through them.

We admire them.

We worship them.

They worship themselves.

They bleed for us.

They bleed for themselves.

There is redemption through violence.

We give them forgiveness.

They seek glory.

We give it to them.

They love us.

We love them.

They fade into anonymity.

We allow them to.

There is no old timer's day in professional wrestling.

Mickey Rourke's movie, The Wrestler is a movie about professional wrestling that ironically has nothing to do about professional wrestling. The Wrestler is a human drama about love, loss, pain, redemption and destiny. The Wrestler is also an existential drama. What do you do when to do you, to be yourself, to follow through on all that you are, to truly inhabit and exemplify oneself--your ultimate personhood--means to die? Is this the ultimate act of humanity and triumph? Or, is it the ultimate tragedy?

The Wrestler follows the twilight of professional wrestler, Randy "The Ram" Robinson's, career. As metaphors for his fall from grace, rather than Madison Square Garden, the Philadelphia Spectrum, or my very own New Haven Colosseum (never underestimate the Connecticut-WWE connection), it is now Bingo halls, high school gyms, bingo halls, VFW posts, and little attended fan conventions, that are now the Ram's stage. Played brilliantly by the now resurrected character actor Mickey Rourke, the Ram is a shadow of himself, but for those dozens as opposed to thousands of his glory days (or tens of thousands) the Ram still bleeds, cries, works, takes bumps for, and sells. For the Ram, a man who is a real worker and old hand, he yearns for "the pop" and believes in a sacred obligation to entertain and amaze the audience. The Ram is their hero for the night. He makes worries disappear. He entertains and amazes. He is a living superhero that little boys and girls dream to be as they enjoy one night with dad (and maybe mom as well) where they escape the rigors, pain, disappointment and monotony of "the real world." Ultimately, professional wrestling, when done right and well, is epic story telling that we smart marks live and breath. Thus, we admire the desire and dedication of our favorite pros:



The Wrestler is also a multi-layered narrative where the in-ring action is coincidental and complimentary to the action outside of the squared circle. Professional wrestlers live a life on the road. They travel some hundreds of days a year and their "road family,"--the other professional wrestlers--become kin. The blood family, the kids, wives, mothers, and fathers, are often neglected. Traditional relationships often fail. Consequently, wrestlers become addicted to the road because those temporary moments of stolen bliss with groupies, drugs, or the bottle (and yes drugs and alcohol addiction are "relationships") become substitutes for the often more difficult obligations of wife and children. If wrestling is about the "pop" or the "rush," the road is a means to this end:



Accordingly, Mickey Rourke's character has difficulty...and difficulty is a polite phrasing..with maintaining a relationship with his daughter. Evan Rachel Wood (played by Stepanie Robinson), has distanced herself from her father. The Ram is a bogeyman, a shadow over her id and greater psyche, a dark father to avoid and run away from. The Ram desires a relationship with a local stripper played by Marisa Tomei. Like a professional wrestler, she too is judged by her physicality. Like a professional wrestler, time is her enemy. Like a professional wrestler, there is no old timer's day for exotic dancers. The irony of the Wrestler's father-daughter relationship is that as many working class folks and others can relate to, is that dad was often away from home, hustling and working, but just wasn't there as a physical presence in the morning at the breakfast table or in the evening for dinner. As we presumably grow older wiser, we come to understand that sometimes dad was there when those checks were coming in the mail keeping a roof over our head and food in our stomach...this is one of the universal narratives which makes the Wrestler so powerful:



The Wrestler is an accomplishment of film making and storytelling that is compelling and oddly beautiful. As a smart mark, a label which describes those of us who know that wrestling is "fake," but also understand how "real" it is, the Wrestler is sound, smart, and laden with moments that "real" fans will mark out for. When the Ram "blades" (he should have mentioned taking extra aspirin to thin one's blood to get that real crimson tide a la Rick Flair) you feel part of kayfabe. When the Ram walks down the aisle to work in the deli section of a Supermarket, you will understand how utterly devastating this juxtaposition is: from walking through that tunnel to the applause of tens of thousands, to now doing "the walk" as an anonymous functionary, we can imagine that pain. The old school, "Texas catch can," chain wrestling era, smart marks will watch with fascination and disgust at the "New School" of extreme wrestling depicted in the film where ring work and craft are cast into the dustbin in exchange for cheap pops, high spots, staple guns, "hardcore," and less than creative, innovative blood sport. Mick Foley shared this frustration, how too much is often asked by fans of their heroes:



We are a brotherhood of sorts. Yes, I used brotherhood universally irrespective of race, class, gender, or those other categories of identities that often divide us. I smile when some talk about professional wrestling as the domain of poor or working class white folk. Those who makes those claims don't understand the range of our shared popular culture--"our" being a broad cross-section of humanity. In fact, there was and is something radically democratic about professional wrestling. Sure, it isn't perfect. Of course, it is a stage for spectacular, exaggerated, and ridiculous, racial caricatures. But us, we ghetto nerds, are still in the audience cheering, dreaming, smiling, and clapping with folk, black, brown, red, yellow, and other. Me and my fellow ghetto nerds, a generation of us, all wanted to be Hulk Hogan. We saw red and yellow, not Black or White. Me and my dad and my uncle screamed for Rick Flair and bowed in respect. Me and my dad jumped up and down at the New Haven Civic Center when via closed circuit television Hulk Hogan body slammed Andre the Giant at Wrestlemania. These are the stuff from which memories are made and why we smart marks follow our chosen "sport" almost as a religion, even as we simultaneously praise, criticize, and bemoan its current state of affairs.

Professional wrestling is a story of tragedy and triumph. At the end of the film this tension is made painfully and mortally clear. Do we die as we lived? Is this triumph? Or do we die as something else, something less than how we imagine ourselves to be? I think you can guess my answer. In short, see the Wrestler.

Questions:

1. Who is to blame for the current state of professional wrestling? Is it a function of monopoly where the WWE has no incentive to maintain excellence? Is it the fault of fans for lowering their standards? Is it the fault of professional wrestlers for teaching the audience to demand a more extreme, high spot style as opposed to a more demanding, and in my opinion, fulfilling traditional style of wrestling?

2. Should their be a union for professional wrestlers? Should their be an off season?

3. How many wrestlers have died before age 65? Should we panic? Be worried? Is this an anomoly in the world of sports? Is professional wrestling being unfairly singled out?

4. Greatest era and greatest territory? I vote either 1970s WCCW or 1970s and1980s AWA/NWA. Your vote? Could it be the 1990s WCW-WWE-ECW era?

5. Two people: Eddie Guerrero and Chris Benoit. Is the Wrestler also their story?

6. ECW in its hayday, can it ever be topped?

7. For those who have seen the Wrestler, is the Ram's character channeling Sean Michaels, Terry Funk, Jake Roberts, all three, or some other combination of individuals?

8. If you could fix three things about the WWE to get it back on track, what would they be? What is your favorite WWE storyline now? TNA storyline? Why? For me, Sean Michaels and JBL is brilliant in its simplicity. Will they ruin it?

9. Will the great grandchildren of we ghetto nerds be watching professional wrestling? Will it be something we can recognize? Will we still be watching it?

10. Which is the sadder scene in the film? The legends convention where the old timers are selling videotapes in a DVD/digital era or the Ram playing Nintendo with his young neighbor? Could the movie have ended any other way?

11. My smart marks, why do you still love pro wrestling, our addiction, its physical story telling mixed with soap opera melodrama for men?

Gordon Gartrelle Says: Black NBA Players, Your Charities Are Raggedy.

The Salt Lake Tribune recently featured a disheartening article about the failure of most NBA players’ charities.

I’ve included the most cringe-worthy excerpts below:

Among the findings of The Tribune's analysis of 89 stand-alone NBA player charities: Together, they reported revenue of at least $31 million between 2005 and 2007, but only about 44 cents of every dollar raised -- or $14 million of that $31 million -- actually reached needy causes. The average NBA player foundation put just 51 cents of each dollar it spent toward charitable programs, well below the 65 cents most philanthropic watchdog groups view as acceptable. Tax records show budgets are quickly eaten up by poor planning and administrative costs.
...

The Tribune's analysis also found that players commonly rely on family members instead of independent experts to staff their boards, in many cases, violating IRS rules intended to ensure adequate oversight. More than two-thirds of player-run foundations filing IRS forms between 2005 and 2007 had family members, friends or past sports associates on their boards. In several cases, the boards were made up entirely of family members. ''They are all illegal,'' said Marc Pollick, of the Giving Back Fund. ''The IRS just doesn't have the arms to go after everybody.
...

Player charities often hold annual lavish fundraising events that lose money or barely break even. Pollick at the Giving Back Foundation said these galas can turn into "fun-raisers instead of fundraisers.'' NBA free agent Robert Horry's Big Shot Foundation reported $206,086 in fundraising expenses for 2005, its first year of operation, but, according to tax returns, the efforts raised nothing. The year's tab included $38,000 in artist's fees; a total of $38,120 in building and venue rental; a $27,486 expenditure on an unitemized "commission"; $23,005 in food; $25,000 in golf course fees; $17,368 on hotels; along with other four-figure expenditures on a disc jockey, sound and lighting, trophies, video rental, logo shirts and security.

Retired NBA power forward Chris Webber's Foundation holds an annual star-studded poker and golf extravaganza at Planet Hollywood Resort and Casino in Las Vegas, called C-Webb's Bada Bling. Now in its fourth year, the party is billed as "a celebrity weekend'' with a 56-star guest list including comedian Jamie Foxx and singer Gladys Knight. In 2006, the first year the event was held, party organizers reported spending $243,000 on catering and $327,561 on event production. The foundation also reported losing $530,590 on special events for the same year, tax returns show.
...

Though shining examples of NBA charity work abound --including noteworthy efforts by the five Jazz players, all of whom run effective charities -- player foundations' noble motives often go awry, as even the league acknowledges.

Why do the charities run by the Utah Jazz players have to be the most professionally run ones? (For those who don’t watch basketball, the Jazz has the reputation for being the whitest team in the league).

It’s not even that these players’ charities are failing—that can happen to the noblest, best run charities; it’s that they’re failing in stereotypically ign’ant black folk fashion.

Throwing lavish, flashy celebrity-centered parties that cost more than they make? Hiring unqualified family members to run what could be multi-million dollar organizations?

It’s one thing for degenerate black people to be raggedy, but when those who claim to be uplifting their communities—those aspiring to or living respectable negro lives—are raggedy, it’s just depressing.

Black ballers, tighten the fuck up.

The Obama Dunk T-shirt: More Than Humiliation

Since I’m still in Thanksgiving leftover mode, I thought I’d take the chance to post this piece, which I’ve been tweaking since early September.


-------------

In general, I don’t care much for political T-shirts, and from the bootleg shirts on the corner to the Bro-bama shirts that fratboy douchebags and their hipster cousins love, I’d considered Obama shirts especially lame.

Then I spotted this brilliant Undrcrwn T-shirt, which features a seemingly routine caricature of Obama dunking on McCain. Spike Lee was wearing this shirt at the Democratic Convention in August. As is clear in the following video, he could barely contain his enthusiasm for the shirt.



Upon seeing the shirt on Spike, I had the same reaction. Since that day, I have been pondering why this shirt resonates with Spike, me, and so many other politically progressive basketball fans and negrophiles.

The Dunk:

In addition to being an amazing physical feat, Carter’s leapfrogging dunk over 7-foot 2 Frenchman Frederic Weis during the 2000 Sydney Olympics was an iconic moment: the ultimate manifestation of brazen, post-Jordan bluster.



The 2000 U.S. Basketball team was the last to win Gold prior to this year’s team. As with every one of the NBA-player led Olympic teams assembled after the Original 1992 Dream Team, the 2000 team was roundly criticized for its trash-talking and its lack of respect for opponents and the game of basketball. Traditional media types also slammed the 2000 Team for its failure to dominate, as exemplified by near losses to Lithuania and France. Despite the fact that many European fans and white American sportswriters accused the U.S. team of being "ugly Americans", the U.S. players left Sydney with Gold medals draped around their necks.

Many players, even the best, get smashed on. What Carter did to Weis, however, was arguably the greatest public basketball sonning ever (no disrespect to Shawn Kemp or Scottie Pippen). It’s not just that Carter’s actual dunk was incredible; it’s that Carter rendered Weis a public spectacle worthy of derision in the process. Most basketball fans scoffed at the suggestions that the W+K Nike ads were homophobic, but those who complained about the ads are right about one thing: getting a face full of nuts is widely considered the most humiliating fate a player can suffer on the court. Carter’s dunk proved that there is something even more humiliating: having your opponent clear you like an inconsequential hurdle.


Vince Carter and Obama: Respectable Negroes, “Bad Niggers”:

Vince Carter is a polarizing figure. He has a strong following among kids and highlight-centric fans, who elevate Carter’s style above all else. Yet, because he has a tendency to wilt in big games and is known for underachieving, Carter is frequently dismissed by basketball heads (myself included). For instance, in one of our email exchanges, freedarko’s Dr. Lawyer Indian Chief expressed concerns about the shirt linking Obama to Carter, given Carter’s poor reputation and failed promise.

Along with this legitimate criticism of Carter’s game, there has also been unjust criticism about Carter’s character. Carter is loathed by basketball purists, who insist that athletes “play the game the white right way.” Adherents of this view never miss an opportunity to complain about Carter’s lax attitude and his excessive celebration and preening. This criticism is often couched in language that evokes the “bad nigger” trope, e.g. “spoiled,” “punk,” “primadonna,” “ungrateful,” “disrespectful,” “quitter.”

When pressed, even Carter’s harshest critics would concede that he is a respectable negro outside of basketball. He bears none of the visual markers of black thuggery that have supposedly ruined the NBA: he has no visible tattoos and has never worn cornrows in public, and, more importantly, he has never been in trouble with the law. Carter hails from a two-parent middle-class household and is a committed father. He spent his high school years excelling at several sports as well as playing in the band. Though he left the University of North Carolina early, Carter eventually completed his degree in African American Studies. And to top it all off, he’s an Omega.

What’s more, Carter helped to promote a 12-year-old kid’s film about the importance of education for black males. When Carter decided to attend his graduation ceremony the day of an important playoff game 7 against the Sixers, he was criticized by the mainstream media and fans—yes, the same people who decry the cultural and academic failings of young black kids; the same people who lament the lack of famous black role models; the same people who believe that black celebrities and poor black people don’t value education.

The point is that Carter is the personification of black bougiedom. Only in our nation’s twisted racial logic is he a “bad nigger.” That critics would even go there is evidence that mainstream sports and political discourse has no language to reflect the nuance of black identity (any time Mike Tyson and young Muhammad Ali are lumped together, something is wrong).

Obama has been painted in these same broad, “bad nigger” tones, despite being the prototypical respectable negro in terms of education and achievement. This disconnect between borderline racist perceptions and reality, between each man’s public and private black identities, is why the Obama-Carter parallel works so well for me. Moreover, large numbers of black folks identify with Carter and Obama in part due to black people’s tendency to embrace the spirit of the “bad nigger” as a symbol of defiance in the face of white criticism (in public, however, black folks will refute the “bad nigger” characterization by pointing to the respectable negro private life of the accused).


The Shirt:

The first thing that stands out about the drawing is Obama’s big head. This image recalls the silly sports caricature shirts that just about every basketball fan owned about twenty years ago. Yet, unlike the caricatures on the 80s shirts, this Obama isn’t grinning goofily; he is wearing a solemn, presidential expression while looking off into the distance. Though Undrcrwn uses this same style to depict rappers and ballers, placing this style in a political context alters the meaning. So, while the tone of the shirt is playful, it also nods toward the gravity of Obama’s campaign.

Obama is not just striking Carter’s pose; he’s wearing Carter’s uniform, namely, that of the U.S. Basketball Team in 2000. Depicting Obama in basketball gear marks him as a baller; depicting him in the U.S. Olympic uniform marks him as a willing representative of the United States and a patriotic American according to the low bar set by mainstream, nationalist sports writers and fans (more on that later).

McCain, on the other hand, is depicted as no more than a suit…literally: his face isn’t shown, and he has to be identified by the name across his back. The fact that McCain is portrayed wearing a suit (with short pants no less!) singles him out him as an outsider, as one who doesn’t belong on the court—a notion supported by the fact that the “court” is Obama’s campaign logo.

The absence of a basketball court/hoop removes the dunk from its practical end: scoring. This has two important effects. First, it makes humiliating McCain an end in itself; and second, it gives the impression of a perpetual Obama ascent, suggesting his boundless future.

Obama’s caricature is palming a red, white, and blue ball. This ball was a signature of the American Basketball Association, the stylish, upstart 1970s professional basketball league that was often contrasted with the more traditional, stodgy NBA. The ABA eventually gained mainstream credibility and influence when the two leagues merged in 1976.

Given the dynamics of the 2008 presidential election—Obama, a young upstart vanquishing McCain, an old, out of touch insider—the ABA-NBA angle seems especially appropriate.

The heart of the shirt’s brilliance, however, lies in Undrcrwn’s decision to use American Carter’s dunk over the Frenchman Weis as the metaphor for the Obama vs. McCain contest. This choice represents a clever symbolic inversion that turns conservative stereotypes inside-out.

In popular conservative discourse, American conservative men are real men: brave, rational, and decisive. Conservatives always respect and honor national traditions and history and are unabashedly patriotic. By contrast, conservatives depict American liberal males are effete, spineless, unpatriotic losers. Aside from women, Europeans are the group conservatives most commonly associate with liberal men. Conservatives love to compare liberal American men to the French, in particular, owing not only to French men’s supposed lack of masculinity, but also to France’s anti-American attitudes and (unfair) reputation for surrendering during war.

By representing McCain as the ineffectual Frenchman Weis, the shirt turns the rhetorical tables on the “freedom fries” crowd, equating the Republican war hero with the hated French “cheese-eatin’ surrender monkeys” and even making the surrender explicit by having McCain wave a white flag. That leaves Obama, the liberal embodiment of multiculturalism, as the wearer of the “real, patriotic American” mantle. Such a reversal is a slap in the face to dyed-in-the-wool conservatives, which helps to explain their rage over the reality of an Obama presidency.


Conclusion:

There should be no doubt that Undrcrwn made a deliberate choice to highlight the French connection. It’s certainly possible, though, that Undrcrwn didn’t think about the ABA ball beyond the fact that the red, white, and blue color scheme matched Obama’s uniform. And I’m almost positive that choosing Vince Carter as the model had nothing to do with Carter’s off-court respectability.

A young and virile Obama humiliating a disoriented, white-haired McCain on the basketball court is an apt metaphor for the generational clash borne out by the election. Humiliation is definitely a vital aspect of the shirt’s charm, but I see much more. To me, the shirt provides a visual representation of the layers of meaning bound up in the idea of Obama: Obama is simultaneously loved and hated; insider and outsider; respectful and brash; patriotic and rebellious; hero and anti-hero; respectable negro and “bad nigger.”

Because I see what I want to see in it, the shirt is a metaphor (meta-metaphor?) for President Obama.


Post-script:

1.) in the process of writing this, I came across several helpful pieces. Two in particular stand out: the Vince Carter entry in the new Freedarko book and blacksnob’s photo essay on the shirt.)

2.) I just realized that Undrcrwn also produces this Obama- as-Ali knocking out McCain-as-Sonny Liston shirt. Maybe I'll take another 3 months to write this one up.

Time to Go to Sleep: Randy Couture Meets Brock Lesnar's Fists

I have always been a fan of Brock Lesnar. His amazing speed, explosive strength, and awesome physicality are a near perfect combination. Now, Lesnar just needs to add some more experience and he will become the total package. I will forgive good old Brock for repeating the silly comment that some people think that he must be on steroids because "Brock has muscles like a black guy." I guess I didn't get the memo that black men are so powerful and naturally well muscled--this belief must be a cousin to the White racial psyche's fixation on "giant negroes" that Undercover Brother posted on sometime back.

Brock is going to do great in mixed martial arts. But, we would be in error if his impressive, and much missed, run in the World Wrestling Federation went unacknowledged. For the uninitiated, here are two classic bouts:

Brock versus the late, great, Eddie Guerrero (we miss you so much Eddie). Point: Brock lost, but in the world of professional wrestling, often the greatest performances come from putting over one's opponent:



Brock versus Kurt Angle. Three words: Brock Lesnar moonsault!

Part 1:



Part 2:



Random thought: For all that is good and just in the world, Kurt Angle should not transition into mixed martial arts. To do so, would be both dangerous and life threatening for the former Olympic gold medalist. And how long will it take until TNA's management, Kurt himself, and those sad marks out there (as opposed to smart marks like you and me) start clamoring for this "dream" match up?

Brock, We Respectable Negroes wish you the most enthusiastic of congratulations on your well earned victory!

A Communal Project: We are Respectable Negroes and Free Darko Present the All Time Presidential Candidate One on One 21 Tournament

We respectable negroes like making friends.

Accordingly, Gordon has come up with a devious, and ingenious exercise with our colleagues at Free Darko:

Welcome to the All-Time Presidential Candidate one-on-one 21 Tournament, a singular event over 150 years in the making. What makes this tournament so special? All of the participants ran for president either as Democrats or as Republicans (a criteria that has rankled a number of 3rd party candidates). Many of the participants actually made it to the White House, but some never even made it out of their party’s primaries. The games are governed by standard 21 rules: maximum 3 free-throws after a made basket, players go back to 11 if they score more than 21 points, no out of bounds, only blatant fouls, traveling, and double dribbles called.

Good stuff huh? Presidential candidates fighting it out in a NCAA style tournament--I wish our real electoral politics were as exciting. The first round has just concluded. Were there any surprises or upsets? Who will be Cinderella story? What candidates are the "dark horses"--I love that word by the way--Did they rise to victory?

And for those of you not in the know, if you like us respectable negroes, you are probably going to love Free Darko.

Chuancey DeVega Says: The New England Patriots have Lost and I am Rendered Speechless

I am hurt. I am sad. I have been made mute. I am getting myself prepared for The End of Times because The Apocalypse is truly upon us:

Florida Evans said it best:

Jim Brown: A Pre-Superbowl Respectable Negro of the Weekend

Thanks Jim for speaking a little truth to power. But Brother Jim, please don't waste too much time and energy on Tiger Woods because he is a lost cause, a "New Negro," Canablasian, tragic mulatto and simply not worth too much of your (or our) time. Tiger may see nothing in wrong in a sports commentator saying he should be "lynched," but those who know better can't help but shake our heads in disgust at Mr. Woods's non-response:

The full text of the article follows from: http://sports.yahoo.com/golf/pga/news?slug=dw-browntiger020208&prov=yhoo&type=lgns

Brown not backing down regarding Tiger
By Dan Wetzel, Yahoo! Sports
February 2, 2008

Dan Wetzel
Yahoo! Sports

SCOTTSDALE, Ariz. – Tiger Woods is not just one of the world's most popular athletes, he's one of its most popular people. He is relentlessly positive, as appealing away from the game as he is on the golf course.

Some of that is his natural personality; some, presumably, part of a calculated (and understandable) attempt to navigate a public life that impossibly asks him to be all things to all people.

Woods glides through the world like one of his shots toward the green; a breathtakingly precise, yet soft-landing approach.

It takes a tough guy to criticize Tiger Woods, to demand more, to square off and to risk the inevitable backlash of challenging such a personality. In the end, you can't really win.

Jim Brown has no such concern, of course, no such fear. His approach to life – particularly in addressing social issues – is like his old football running style. He just squares his shoulders, buries his head and blasts right at you.

That's how Brown, the product of the contentious 1960s, believes it needs to be done; the same way Woods, a far calmer generation later, probably feels his way is best.

Brown recently criticized Woods for being "too politically correct" in not speaking out sooner or with more force when a Golf Channel anchor said opposing players' best bet to stop Woods was to "lynch" him.

"He should have come out right away," Brown told ESPN. "Instead, he waited until it was politically correct (to comment)."

Even then, Woods brushed the entire episode aside.

For Brown, much of the backlash for criticizing Woods was swift and thorough. In some quarters, he was as vilified as the announcer. But as you'd expect, he isn't backing down.

"Someone asked me a question and I gave them an answer," Brown told Yahoo! Sports at a Super Bowl charity golf event this week. "And the answer, I thought, was very thoughtful and very meaningful.

"And if it is understood, a lot of people will go into their history and learn something about who developed this country, who helped develop it, who are the people who made it as great as it is today and at what cost."

Here's the thing with Brown, he asks questions and gives answers that few of us in comfortable positions sometimes want to hear. This includes me.

It's not that you have to agree with him, but simply contemplating his point can take energy, thought and even study in a day and age that prefers instant, simple-minded agreement or dismissal.

But life isn't "Hannity & Colmes."

Brown's point is that in the fade of history the true meaning of lynching had been forgotten.

"Lynching was the weapon of the greatest terrorist group in this country, the Ku Klux Klan," he said. "That was their weapon of choice. So if you don't know that, then you should really become educated because a lot of people have suffered many years because of the sickness of that terrorist organization."

To Brown "evil is evil." To joke about lynching is no different than joking about a hijacked plane on 9-11 orphaning a child, a roadside bomb in Fallujah taking out a Marine's knees, or an explosive-packed car murdering innocent shoppers in some far off land.

It's not just about race, it's about rememberance and perspective. It's a point that, at the very least, makes you stop and think.

Woods has been criticized for not being as socially outspoken as many great athletes of Brown's era. Clearly, Woods has the kind of immense power that was unattainable a generation ago.

His response is that he is socially active through his charities, which is a fair point. And he certainly doesn't have to apologize for not being Jim Brown or thinking like Jim Brown.

Brown has no more the final say on this than anyone else. If Woods thought Kelly Tilghman's two-week suspension was enough and this was, indeed, no big deal, then that's fine.

But Brown certainly can have a say. The worst thing that happened from the lynching fallout was some of the instantaneous, outright dismissal of everything Brown and others articulated.

The powers that be, especially in golf, wanted no part of looking in their sport's historical (or current) mirror. So they rallied with a simple message, "Just move on, it's no big deal, just an innocent mistake."

It would seem that at least some in the golf establishment and some of its lock-step media were as angry with Golf Week at attempting to continue the debate than the magazine's terrible choice of cover art.

But that's always the moneyed-power reaction; kill all discussion, protect the status quo. Woods – knowingly or not, purposefully or not – became their perfect spokesman on the issue.

That's Tiger's right, of course. But doing what Brown demanded – examining the past, educating people to history, challenging Woods' approach and opinion – can never be a bad thing either. Even if it becomes rarer and rarer in a sports world now mostly devoid of socially outspoken stars.

"(Athletes don't speak out today) because the most difficult part of the struggle is over," Brown said. "Now an African-American athlete can enjoy pretty much everything that everyone else can enjoy.

"When you are in an era when you can utilize the fruits of someone else's labor, it takes a thoughtful person to think the battle still goes on, the struggle still goes on and there (are) still barriers that we still have to break down."

At age 71, Brown refuses to stop challenging athletes to think about the world outside of endorsements, parties and public relations. No matter how much it costs him in all of those things.

"That's the life I live," he said. "The life I live is to try to be a part of change. A lot of youngsters, once they become educated they become advocates. They really try to do the right thing."

It's too simplistic to say Brown's approach is always right or always wrong; just as it would be to say about Woods'. Both have their merits.

Here's what is wrong in discussing race in America: taking the easy route and just say be quiet, just say it's over and no one cares anymore, to just say the other side's opinion has no merit or meaning.

The thing is, it takes courage to listen.

Jim Brown, no doubt, has that courage; the courage to fight even against an overwhelmingly popular conventional wisdom articulated by no less than Tiger Woods.

Maybe, in the end, he changed few minds in golf or anywhere else, but America remains a better place because Jim Brown, all these years later, keeps trying to fight these mostly un-winnable fights.

***

For all his faults, Jim Brown was, and is, one hell of a man:

Thanks again Jim.

Wrestlers, Black Elvis, and our 2008 Presidential Candidates--You Know, Sometimes You Can't Make This Stuff Up

Every presidential election has its collection of odd, funny, and bizarre moments. But this year has got to take the cake. We have Hillary, co-president in a political "dynasty" and wife of the first "black" president (soul pass revoked as of 1/26/08). Her chief rival Obama is a "halfrican," a man who also happens to be a legit contender for the presidency of The United States. The campaign also features a Mormon--insert joke here. And we have Mr. McCain, a man who I can't bring myself to make fun of given how he spent years in that hell hole, The Hanoi Hilton.

The stars must have really aligned because it seems that professional wrestlers are now giving endorsements to candidates. In this corner, we have Hulk Hogan endorsing Obama (I don't know if this is a gift or a curse):

It must be a trend. Let's match each wrestler with the candidate they have endorsed.

The immortal Ric Flair has endorsed a man on a mission from God, Republican presidential candidate Mike Huckabee. Huckabee also has the support of the toughest man alive Mr., yes I call him Mister lest he come over my house and kick my ass, Chuck Norris.

Kane has endorsed Republican candidate Ron Paul.

Jimmy Snuka, who is a Mormon, ostensibly supports Mitt Romney.

John McCain, who is a very vocal critic of professional wrestling and mixed martial arts gets no support. No, just kidding. For the sake of argument let's give him the UFC's, "The Iceman" Chuck Liddell.

And Hillary has Black Elvis...Old girl just can't catch a break can she?

If we were taking bets here at We Are Respectable Negroes who would you pick to win this battle royal?

New England Wins One More: It is Hard to be Tom Brady

My boy Brady is only human. Watching the game I felt like this:

To be honest, the game made me feel like this:

In two weeks our victory over the Giants will be more like this:

It is good to be the King.

Lest You Think We Have Become Too Serious: The Patriots are to Charlie Murphy as The Jaguars are to Rick James

2 more to go!

We now interrupt this broadcast: The New England Patriots are perfect!!!!

For The New England Patriots:

Kamala says congratulations!

This is for you Tom Brady:

Now all we need is one more Superbowl ring....